


It’s A Long Way Down From Here

by Puffinpastry



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Developing Relationship, Eleven is named Eli, Healing, M/M, Mermaid Eleven, No Spoilers, Permanent Injury, Sign Language, pirate erik, themes of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puffinpastry/pseuds/Puffinpastry
Summary: Erik led a simple, quiet life on his simple, quiet island.His days passed easily in routine and practice as he waited for the fleeting visits from the outside world.He’d seen his fair share of hardship and change, and at last it seemed like everything was quieting down.But he should know better than to think anything would ever stay the same.
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 82





	1. Fourth Time’s The Charm

**Author's Note:**

> This was not my original mermay concept.  
> I had a single thought about one single line in this fic and the rest followed and before I’d even realized it, the single line and the 3k fic Id planned around it became a 3 chapter story.  
> So.  
> Yeah.  
> There’ll probably be another mermaid AU from me eventually.

Life can change at the drop of a hat.

Erik knew this well. 

Well enough that he knew better than to let himself settle into a routine and expect it to remain. 

He’d grown up living by this knowledge, as he watched his hometown change as the silkworm mill he’d worked at had to shut down.

He was only a child, could only recall the fuzziest memories of that last day…

He didn’t have one of the harder jobs there. He worked at the looms, his fingers were callused, but he didn’t have the worries of infection or burns like the kids at the vats.

He wasn’t one of the children that fought back. He knew his place, knew that he would someday be able to leave that mill, saving up the pennies he earned to someday go off on his own.

It just happened sooner than he expected. 

The foreman had drunkenly killed one of the younger children, and in a moment of madness, or maybe even clarity, one of the older had killed the foreman in retaliation, before fleeing the mill, not to be heard from again.

The mill owners looked past much of the foreman’s cruelty, not caring for the well-being of those inside as long as they got their profit.

But when a child was murdered in cold blood, and the foreman as well?

That wasn’t something they could brush under the rug.

Erik didn’t much remember the blood of that day, now. What he did remember, however, was the dye that morning, the bright cyan blue the foreman used on him at seemingly random intervals.

All the children that worked under him had their hair dyed one color or another so that at a glance he could tell if they were where they belonged, or if they were off loitering by the wrong station, or trying to sneak out back home.

A wisp of his still-blue hair fell into his good eye, and Erik brushed it away.

Had all that re-dying really been necessary?

His hair hadn’t come anywhere near the toxic-smelling substance since that morning, and somehow it still retained the color.

He didn’t mind the unnatural shade, actually. Blue wasn’t the worst he could’ve gotten out of the range, some of the poor sods may still be out there, bright orange hair announcing their presence wherever they went. But that aside, his blue was one thing that stayed the same.

One thing he could count on, even if in the grand scheme of things it never changed a thing.

But that wasn’t his point.

Blue hair or not, that was the first time he learned that lesson.

And this lesson was only reinforced as time went on.

He was still small when the mill closed, too small to be on his own, and thus, he was thrust into yet another thankless job, but one that gave him a future without gangrenous cuts or ruined lungs.

He got used to the smell on the boat faster than others.

Silkworms hadn’t been a pleasant smell either, but at least it didn’t stick to his clothes like the smell of dead fish did.

But Erik found that he enjoyed the sea.

After his nose went numb to the rancid stench of fish blood, he found that the sea itself was so much more pleasant.

He loved the warm breeze that came from the endless waters, the salt spray, and the call of the seabirds. 

Even with the backbreaking labor of the fishery, the cramped quarters he had to share with the other boys, the ocean felt right.

For as long as he had the privilege of working on it. 

His humble little work lasted him a good handful of years. They weren’t the happiest times he knew, but they weren’t bad.

The work was methodical, and became muscle memory easily, allowing him the amazing new luxury of daydreaming.

He’d seen how the shipowner lived, sitting back behind the helm, giving orders, _leaving_ the ship every night they were ashore to go sleep in his bed in his more than modest home with his more than modest family… 

Erik could just imagine living like that. Owning his own ship, having his own crew… 

Seeing his hands in linen gloves flipping through notes instead of slicing through the belly scales of the fish they caught, cleaning and preparing it to be sold to someone else.

He could look into his bowl of gruel every night and imagine real cuts of meat, buttered and salted potatoes, and the wine he saw poured for the portly man, instead of the beer he and the others were given to stave off scurvy and the other handful of troubles that came with living at sea.

Those fantasies, so far out of reach but so easy to imagine lasted him long, kept him company through the lonelier nights, kept him strong through the harder days.

But one day came that the fantasies couldn’t save him from, and taught him again that what he had was as fragile as the fish bones that broke in his hands.

It was late at night when their ship was stormed.

Erik liked to think that he slept through the worst of it. 

But even after those on the deck were taken, recruited, or tossed overboard, they came for those under deck. 

Pirates.

Erik had only heard stories until that point, of the outlaws that sailed the seas, taking what they wanted, spilling blood carelessly, flying flags and banners of skulls and crossbones.

They’d sounded like the stories of the selkies and sirens told to children to keep them away from the riptides, like the tales of the fae and the werewolves to keep them from the deep woods.

But there they were, all too real, all too tangible in that night, herding them aboveboard, hands tied behind their backs and to each other to keep them in line. If one tried to escape, if one made a move, it would ripple down the line, risking them all.

Only one child had been brave enough, foolish enough to try anything.

Erik had seen his fair share of bloodshed.

That last day in the mill, the accidents that happened before, when the nets cut hands, when his knife slipped in his hand, when the sailors were drunk, playing a game with a blade and a song… 

But there was something different with these pirates.

Even the foreman’s death had a reason, in a way. He’d been killed in vengeance. 

But that boy…

Erik didn’t know his name.

The children didn’t play on the ship. They didn’t speak or joke with each other, fearing reprimands for wasting time. 

But still, the little boy with the uneven black bangs and the birthmark on his face had been there just as long as Erik had been, and in just a heartbeat, he was cut free from the rest, and cut down before their eyes.

No one else moved.

The shipowner was killed next, and then the stores raided.

They didn’t have much of anything of any real value, and that had made the pirates angry.

They took out that anger on who remained.

But not once did Erik flinch or cry.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t afraid. The chattering of his teeth and the shake of his legs was testament to that, but it was only that there wasn’t anything in his meager power that he could do.

Either he would survive that encounter or he wouldn’t, and well, if he didn’t, that wouldn’t be his problem any longer.

But the pirates saw something in him, and the few others that behaved akin to him.

They took Erik and the two others with them as they carried their plunder to their ship, the three children now added to the spoils of the attack.

Erik didn’t know what became of his old work. What happened to those stranded on the ship, their provisions taken, their employer murdered. He tried not to think about it.

His new life as a pirate lasted much longer than his last two. Erik didn’t know how long, exactly.

He didn’t know how old he was, but on that pirate ship, he grew up.

For years his tunics were too big, but his shoes too small. But that was okay.

Maybe he’d be able to swipe something better the next time they stopped a ship or docked in a port.

He was freer, as a pirate, but that freedom came with a price.

His fantasies of the future were much harder to envision with his face on wanted posters.

Harder to hold onto when he knew his life was held ransom at all times, to be taken if he stepped out of line.

The third child hadn’t lasted long before they gave up before the captain had taken his life.

Leaving only Erik, and the other child.

Derk seemed to be somewhat older than him, but he didn’t know how old he was, either.

But what matter was age on a ship like this?

Erik liked to think they were friends but didn’t have much in the way to know if that’s what you would call them or not.

But that was okay.

He and Derk kept each other company, told each other stories, and shared what little they had to stay strong through the rougher times.

He helped get those daydreams back.

Even if they were different now.

Even if then, Erik’s future ship flew a jolly Rodger, and the nets had been replaced with cannons.

Someday, they had promised each other one night while they nursed bruises the crew had given them, this ship would be theirs.

They would be the ones reaping the spoils, the ones standing at the helm, charting their course.

Someday, they would sail the world.

They heard whispers of lands across the seas, fruitful of exotic treasures and treats, unlike anything they had ever seen.

They would’ve dismissed these hushed words as pure fiction, taken from the pages of the books Erik could not read if it hadn’t been for one thing.

The captain had a sword in his cabin, unlike anything Erik learned to wield, long and thin, sharper than a butcher’s cleaver, intricate but not delicate, engraved with patterns that may be a language, that may be something else.

A single, priceless treasure from these unknown lands.

Someday, they would find these places for themselves.

But of course, Erik knew better than to think these dreams would ever prove to be anything more than fantasy.

When his last fight happened, Erik knew he was an adult, having not grown an inch in years, but that would be to imply he ever grew much at all.

No matter how much time passed, Erik never got very tall, never filled out in the way the other pirates were, but his slightness never bothered him.

Until he got hurt.

It was an accident.

But those just happened, no matter how careful, how prepared he could’ve been.

It was a single misjudged move, but it cost Erik so very much.

The fight had been going well, the gods on his side as he fought, the smaller dagger blades that he favored strong in his grip, and his opponent unsure of themself. He could almost taste what was to be had after his victory, the respect he would earn, the ranks he could rise… But a heartbeat was all it took, and in a heartbeat, he was on the ground, on the wrong end of a sword.

On bad days, he could still feel the blood trail down his cheek.

And even on good days, he still felt the ceaseless ache in his hip from the break.

Somehow, they’d survived the raid from another pirate ship.

Somehow, they’d gotten away.

Somehow that Erik did not know.

Days, he spent in the infirmary fighting against infection and shock and all sorts of nasty things that wanted his life.

But when he pulled through, he was down an eye.

This wasn’t the end of the world.

He wouldn’t be the only one on their ship that was missing half their sight, and his depth perception could be trained.

They all had two eyes for a reason, after all. That one he lost had been nothing more than a spare.

But it wasn’t the eye that caused such trouble. It was the break that was a problem. It was bad, the bone not breaking his skin, but it wasn’t where it belonged. There were no doctors he could see. The man who set his leg had no training, no experience, and it showed as his leg healed crooked, and he was unable to set it down flat against the ground, unable to make it take his weight without protest.

Derk was the only reason he survived that hell, his old friend bringing him water, watching him through the fevers, but even he had his limits.

When his leg was healed, and he walked with a wince and a limp, there wasn’t a thing Derk could do to save him.

He was useless, now, thanks to his fragile build, and his own mistake.

He couldn’t fight, could hardly work, and it wasn’t even as if he was literate enough to help with the atlas.

They were just going to kill him.

And Erik wouldn’t have minded.

Things were all changing again, and this time there wasn’t anyone to drag him into a new life.

Erik loved the ocean. It was his home. He wouldn’t have minded it being his tomb, as well.

But Derk had one last trick up his sleeve, and Erik still had his life, still had his ocean, but less freedom than he had even in the mill, two lifetimes ago.

But he still had his life, and that was what mattered, right?

Right.

Morning came once again, and the warmth in the morning air didn’t do anything to lift Erik’s spirits.

He’d been on this godforsaken island in this godforsaken lighthouse going on three years now, and it still felt like a prison, and really, it was.

This was the price for his life, Erik knew, as he took the cane from where it was propped against the wall by his bed, and got himself up. He had too much information about his old crew. Too much to be safe, but here, isolated from the world, operating an old lighthouse and guarding the treasures his crew found without him, he wasn’t a threat to anyone.

His bed was at the bottom of the stairs, tucked away into a corner, with what various little amusements Derk brought for him.

Derk had gotten all the glory after Erik’s final battle. He deserved it, he really did.

He deserved the place he was in, now. Not quite at the helm himself, but not far from it.

Their old captain was old. 

Grey streaks ran through his hair, these days, and it wouldn’t be long until he’d be tossed to the waves or buried in the earth.

Maybe he’d even retire. Not that Erik would know where an infamous man like he could ever go to live quietly unless their crew tossed him to this island as well.

Was this life what Erik could have expected if the mill never closed? A house, some livestock, routine, calm, quiet… 

Leaning heavily on the brass handle, Erik took his time making it outside.

There were chickens to feed, a garden to weed, fish to catch, and when the sky turned orange, a lamp to light.

He’d need the evening to climb those winding stairs on his bum leg, and by the time he got back down, he’d need all the rest he could get before the cycle restarted.

Retirement. _Heh_. He may walk like an old man, but he was far from being one. Erik didn’t know how long he could take this monotony. 

He’d begun to talk to his chickens, feed the seals that came to visit. The creeping beginnings of madness? Perhaps, but it wasn’t as if there was anyone around to call the white coats to toss him in the asylum.

Sad as it was, he’d never used to need the company of his fellow man. 

He’d been a lone wolf, and he’d been happy. 

But everything was different now, that he’d known companionship, known hope, and had it ripped away. 

There was no ship in his future.

There was no foreign land.

There were no riches.

There was no modest house.

There was no family.

There was only a lighthouse, and the fleeting visits from his old friend, climbing the ranks in his ship.

Derk’s ship.

Not Erik’s.

Never Erik’s.

He had his chickens and the friendly seals.

And that was his lot in life.

It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he had, more fortunate than some.

It didn’t always hurt.

But some days were worse than others.

Some days… He wondered if he’d have been better off sinking through the depths all that time ago.

He wondered if he’d have been better off trying to escape on the fishing boat.

If he’d been the child killed in the mill.

But he was no better off for wondering.

No better off for getting his hopes up with silly fantasies.

He had breakfast to catch, for himself, and for his seals.

You’d think having learned the lesson thrice over now, that Erik would know that nothing would remain the same and that he couldn’t rely on anything that wasn’t himself, and yet the world still found a way to change everything in a way he had no way to foresee.

The sun was still not yet risen when Erik had finished tossing feed for the chickens after he’d fetched his fishing pole and bucket, so when he saw six glowing golden lights on the lowest shore where the seals normally slept, he hadn’t any idea what to expect.

He’d seen plenty of luminescent jellyfish and plankton on the surface of the sea, but they’d never stopped being mesmerizing. 

But this was something entirely new.

Halfway into the shallows of the low tide and halfway onto the slate dark stone, was a man.

Or, more accurately, a _merman._

Water-darkened hair spilled down the golden-toned skin that then faded into a lavender tail… Three glowing patterns in the scales.

Erik knew of sirens.

Knew all the stories, all the legends.

He knew that this creature did not mean well, knew that no matter the method, this creature was a man-eater, and if Erik knew better, he’d be turning around, letting the fish in the tide pools live, and let the seals fend for themselves today.

But… 

Even in the pre-dawn dark, Erik could smell the iron tint of blood in the air. This creature was not on his shore for the fun of it, washed up, and beached rather than resting.

Erik felt a twinge in his hip, a pressure that stretched down to his knee.

It will rain today, said the pain. And Erik knew that it wasn’t lying. He’d learned to read the twinges and aches, knew better than to ignore it.

This creature was injured, and it wouldn’t stand a chance in the torrential rain on its way. 

Erik knew what it was like to fend for himself in the harsh world and curse his bleeding heart, but Erik couldn’t just leave the creature to _perish_.

Climbing the hill to his lighthouse with his arms full would be hell on his leg, but it wasn’t as if he had any other options.

Carefully, slowly, in case the bioluminescence was not the only trait it shared with jellyfish, Erik lay a hand against its tail, before rolling the creature closer.

The sun had only begun to creep over the horizon, its pink light illuminating the creature in a way that couldn’t possibly be real-

The purple scales dotted over his cheeks, under his eyes like freckles, only becoming darker as it moved over the ridges of his cheekbones until it reached where his ears would have been if a fin wasn’t protruding from the side of his head instead.

But Erik didn’t have a spare thought to wonder about its function, when he caught notice of the blood trickling down from the creature’s hair, fresh rivulets running down and pinkening the water.

A head wound.

Maybe from impact?

Erik tucked his cane under his arm, and hooked what he could under the siren’s tail, lifting him up easily.

The creature, weighing so much less than he’d expected, hardly noticeable until Erik had to stand, had to brace his bad leg against the ground.

The pain, the weakness from favoring his other almost sending them both back down into the wash.

Almost enough to make Erik think twice, when the man in his arms let out a pained sound, without any conscious thought, it held to the collar of Erik’s shirt, and Erik knew he wouldn't be able to let go if he wanted to.

This creature- siren- this _living being_ needed his help, and poor directionless Erik…

Well, he hadn’t anything else to do, did he?

His ascent was slow, it was unsteady, and he nearly lost his footing on the slick stone and over his crowding chickens more than once before he managed to get the two of them inside, just as the clouds split open, and a steady drizzle began to fall.

It was light, but the rain would get worse before it was better.

And speaking of worse…

Erik wasn’t exactly equipped for guests, let alone fish men…

Well, if he didn’t have any other option, there wasn’t any worth in hesitating. 

Erik lay the siren down on his own bed.

He could always wash his sheets later. Saltwater wasn’t a hard stain.

But _blood_ , however… 

Erik lit the lantern by his bed and turned the flame up high.

He didn’t keep much in the way of medical supplies here. The worst wounds he dealt with these days were pecked fingers and the occasional mild burn or speared thumb from a fishhook.

He didn’t have anything to stitch with, so as Erik parted the soaked strands of brown hair, he hoped the gash wasn’t too terrible.

He worked quietly, against the backdrop of the pattering rain, wiping away the blood, tying up bandages, and hoping for the best.

The gash on the siren’s head was not as terrible as it could have been, the blood mostly just from scrapes, but that did not mean that the impact that _caused_ the bleeding did not leave a concussion to worry about, and Erik hardly knew what to do for that.

Aside from his head, the creature’s wrists and stomach were marked in raised red lines, welts that burned and stung, and that Erik was all too familiar with.

There wasn’t much he could do for rope burn, but it would go away on its own, in time.

But what would have given him these marks?

Erik could have guessed from a freak show if there was any such thing roving around his lonely little corner of the earth, but there was not, leaving him with a few more believable ideas.

Someone had fished the poor thing up, and instead of tossing him back, had tied him up, intent on selling him at a market?

That is what the stories Erik knew would say. 

But what did he truly know of this creature?

He hadn’t any research, hadn’t any prior knowledge or reliable sources to consider.

They said that sirens lured sailors to the deaths, a watery grave at best, and at worst, becoming the monster’s supper.

Perhaps this creature was harmless, or no more intelligent than any other fish.

Or maybe it was all accurate, and he’d just brought his own demise into his home.

But what would be new? Erik had slept shoulder to shoulder with pirates, men that would kill him over petty squabbles and to just take his place if they thought he might have it better. Erik was no stranger to sharing close quarters with those that meant him harm.

Erik picked his cane up and stood, looking over his work.

The siren’s tail was long, his fin intricate and sprawling, hanging off the foot of the bed.

Now that he was patched up…

Was this a good place to keep him?

Clearly he did not breathe only water, or Erik would’ve lost his patient long ago, but surely he’d be better off in the water?

But Erik couldn’t yet toss him back into the sea when he wasn’t even sure if he’d done the right thing by trying to help.

A basin is what he needed. A good-sized water basin. 

His bath was a small thing, no good for a merman needing rest, but… 

There was a trough just by the coop. Unused, since Erik hadn’t the room nor any need for a donkey on this isolated little scrap of stone.

Hardly knew why he had it when his flock numbered less than ten. But if fate had left him what he needed then he was not going to question it. 

Leaving the siren with one last look over his shoulder, Erik made a steady pace to the tin trough.

It was turned on its side, resting against his chicken coop, and thankfully lightweight.

Turning it back onto its bottom made a crash loud enough to rouse the dead, the sound echoing through the empty skies, ringing in Erik’s ears, and setting his chickens off with upset clucking.

It wasn’t often loud here, nothing reaching anything higher than the rooster that liked to crow each morning.

The sound of cannon fire crashed loud in his ears and his chest, and the fall of cold rain did nothing to ground Erik’s panicked mind.

His heart thudded out a patternless march against his ribs, but the echoes he was hearing were but in his head.

Cannon fire wasn’t something he often heard, these days. There was no gunpowder smoke to clog the air around him.

But it was choking, all the same.

It took a few moments, a few stuttering breaths, and a peal of thunder off in the distance before Erik came back to himself, and the rapping pulse in his throat came back down to something reasonable. 

Another attack.

They were coming more and more, in recent days. Set off by little things Erik didn’t ever seem to expect.

He’d cut his finger while gutting a fish just a few mornings before, and had a similar experience when the sound cut out around him, and nothing existed around him but the memories of his old fishing boat, the days catch behind him, and the thumping of enemy boots above his head.

He felt nauseous, even though he had not yet eaten today.

But what could he do about that?

He could keep working.

Push past everything wrong, and find a way back to his comfortable emptiness.

It was an awkward affair, trying to lug the basin in one hand, supporting himself with the other, up the slope back to the lighthouse. 

His hair was slicked to his scalp, and he could feel the water drops running down his skin, soaking his clothes uncomfortably against him.

By the time he was inside, dripping a puddle onto the concrete floor, he was breathing heavily, and his bad leg was shooting pain up through the rest of him, punishing Erik for daring to try and use the limb. 

But still, he wasn’t done yet.

His home wasn’t small by any means, but the fact that the stairs were always such a hassle to climb meant that most of the living space he could’ve used was cut off from him.

He wasn’t going to make the climb to the top more than once per day if he could do anything to help it.

And it was fine that way.

He had room for his bed, for his table, and his little kitchen nook.

He had space for an old armchair, and the bookshelf filled with bound books he could almost read. 

But he didn’t have room left over to move comfortably with this tub dragged into the middle of the room.

But he could manage.

Erik could take a towel to the water spots on the floor later, but for now, he needed to get the tub filled.

The rainwater had filled it a good portion, but not enough, Erik felt. 

It would only be a few trips, letting the now pouring rain fill his fishing bucket to tip into the basin before the water reached halfway up the sides before Erik admitted defeat, soaked to the bone and dead tired, but still having his own work to do that day with the energy he’d already spent.

He took a moment to check over the siren again, to make sure the bandage over his wound was still wrapped tight, that the bleeding hadn’t soaked through the gauze, and that the creature was still breathing.

He was different, in the light. 

Erik finally began to understand what it was about these creatures that made men that knew full well what they were capable of turn to fools and follow them below the sea.

Even like this, even injured and ill, Erik found himself captivated by the siren’s beauty.

The hair that looked murky and dark from the water had begun to dry and fluff out, turning a much light mousy color, and now that he was looking at the siren without focusing on what was wrong, he was noticing so much more. 

Little cowrie and conch shells were woven into his hair in tiny braids, and what he had thought was a fin by his ear was pierced much like his own, a ring the color of dried coral looping through.

Before Erik had even realized what he was doing, he had placed his hand on what would’ve been a hip for a human, but where flesh became scales on this siren.

Running a light touch over the divide, Erik just took a second to be still, to be amazed at what had crossed his path.

Luck was something Erik didn’t believe in.

Lady Luck didn’t rule over the strange happenings of the world, and coincidence was a simple answer to most of the things that happened.

Erik could have been anyone, and anyone could have been in his shoes, and it was not luck, good or bad that had gotten him to his point, and yet…

Coincidence could hardly be used for something like this.

Whether he believed in anything or not, something about this encounter felt nothing less than miraculous.

If there was anything to spring his faith to life, something to make him begin to believe that maybe there was some higher power out there, pulling at the strings of the world like a marionette, this would have to be it.

And yet still, Erik couldn’t produce even a spark of piety for whatever sent this creature his way. 

Carefully, Erik took the creature into his arms again, and even as his arms ached and his back strained against the weight this time around, he did not jostle or disturb the merman’s rest, slowly lowering him into the water, so that his head was resting against the wall on one end.

His fin still stuck out from the other side, but there wasn’t much Erik could think of to do to amend that.

The merman could figure himself out when he woke.

As much as Erik wanted to stop, and just sit with his surprise companion, he knew he didn’t have the time.

Still so early in the morning, but now with new work to do.

Clean the water, fix his sheets, put away his medical kit… 

It didn’t sound like much on paper, especially with the entire day to complete it all, but Erik was always so tired these days.

He was out of shape, out of practice.

Not that he’d gained any noticeable amount of weight from his time active, no. He was still thin and bony, but without any muscle to support himself. 

He’d given up practicing with his daggers nearly as soon as he’d been left here.

There was no one to fight, and there wouldn’t be anymore.

He had no reason to keep it up, not when he didn’t have to, and not when his balance was so precarious on a single good leg.

It wasn’t worth the bruises.

The humiliation when he fell, even without an audience. 

So, he let himself atrophy. 

His work was harder, took more energy this way, but what was the matter to him?

He went about cleaning silently.

The lack of outside sounds was something he’d grown used to during his stay, but now, rather than normal, it felt oppressive.

The small sounds the cleaning made, the squeak of the wet towel on the ground, the little clicks of his supplies being put away, the swishing of the sheets as he pulled them from his bed…

He never knew how loud they could seem.

The man did not stir throughout Erik’s quiet work, and he was beginning to fear that he wasn’t going to be successful in repairing him. 

Erik didn’t know how to really feel about this change.

Didn’t know how to compartmentalize a creature of fantasy on his doorstep, how to feel about his own actions in saving him, instead of leaving him for naught.

He was a _pirate_ , for god’s sake! Not a nun, not a healer.

But even so, he didn’t want to watch this man die.

Was the water wrong, perhaps? The rainwater was clean and fresh, while the sea was salt. Or maybe it wasn’t anything that Erik did or could not do, and the hurt inside was just too much, his patches too little too late.

With the rain blanketing the outside world in a bleak grey fog, and without any hunger in his belly, Erik had no way of telling how much time had passed.

It may still be as early morning, or it could be just on the cusp of the evening for as far as he knew.

The merman did not stir, did not make a sound even as Erik knelt down beside him, even as he pressed two fingers under his jaw.

His pulse was not weak.

At least, not to human standards.

The pump of blood was strong, and that had to be a good sign, right?

Maybe all he needed was sleep.

Hopefully, all he needed was sleep.

Erik was in no position to offer any true medical care.

Or any true care at all, for that matter.

Aside from himself, Erik had only ever been responsible for his chickens. And while he liked to think he did a good job with his girls, he didn’t think the fish needed the same kind of attention as they did, and really, he didn’t take very good care of himself.

Erik pushed himself back up from the floor, as he felt a crack between his vertebrae, he knew he was going to need a better way of getting up and down.

Not only the gait of a huddled old man but the bones of one, too.

He’d earned himself some rest, today.

After the light.

Early or not, Erik still had one last chore. 

He knew well enough by now that if he were to rest now if he were to take a break, he wouldn’t finish the job. 

It wasn’t likely that the lighthouse would be needed tonight, by his crew or anyone else, but he couldn’t let it remain unlit.

He needed this job. This simple purpose to keep going.

The wrought iron staircase was familiar enough that he could climb it in his sleep, knowing every step that creaked and groaned under his weight, each and every one that felt a little unsteady in its age. It was good, that he knew it this well.

He could let his mind wander for the climb, and try to drown out the discomfort of his reality.

_Step, clang. Drag._

_Step, clang. Drag._

Good leg up a step, cane coming next.

Skim his hand up the banister, and drag the rest of himself up.

Over and over, up the spiral.

By the first platform, he was out of breath.

By the second, his good leg felt like it wanted to snap.

By the time he reached the Lightroom itself, his hair that had finally dried from the rainwater was again wet, but with sweat this time around.

Closing the door behind him, Erik slumped against its wooden frame, fighting to regain his breath in the higher altitude, fighting to stay upright. 

It wasn’t always this bad.

Some days he wasn’t so winded, so exhausted by the stairs. But this wasn’t a good day. He had hardly slept, hadn’t caught his breakfast, hadn’t forced down any meal at all, and the morning had still been so eventful. 

Hearing only the wind above his own wheezing, Erik took a second to rest.

Going down the stairs would be easier, he knew.

But with the almost painful thudding of his heart, it didn’t seem like it.

At least lighting the lantern was simple enough.

Just a bit of oil to light the fire and start the rotation.

Not a lot, just enough for it to stay lit through the night.

Just for the time that his crew would need it, on the off chance they had any reason to return.

The carefully stored jar of kerosene was nearly full. They had been by fairly recently, to top off his supplies, and leave a small array of their ransacked hoard.

Their visits didn’t last long.

Not ever more than a few hours.

Erik never knew if he welcomed them, or if he dreaded them.

Walking to the windows, Erik peered down.

He couldn’t see through the fog, but from this high up, he could just about see _past_ it. 

His island was more cliff than anything else, nearly all the green on a slant. The lighthouse was situated at the highest point, and even when he wasn’t all the way up here, the view from the edge was almost sickening with its drop to the crashing waves below.

What little flatland there was had been commandeered by the chickens and his vegetable patch, and that was fine. 

Erik had no use for the land. 

His breathing back to something that wouldn’t be fitting to be heard in a hospital ward, and his heart only thudding a _little_ stronger than necessary, Erik stepped away from the window and prepared to make his way back down to his bed.

There weren’t any sheets, but that was fine.

It didn’t matter.

When the door clicked gently behind him, the first thing Erik noticed was the sound of splashing water.

He could see just the barest amount of the ground floor from between the two higher platforms, but he didn’t need to check to know what he heard.

A fish flopping against the ground was the same no matter how large the said fish was. 

Going down the stairs was faster. He didn’t have to drag himself, didn't need half the energy that going up took from him, and specifically today, specifically because of his houseguest, the pain in his legs and his hand from the way he held the banister like a lifeline felt like nothing at all, and in only a few minutes, in just a third of the time it took him going up, he was at the foot, still out of breath, but what he was seeing taking it away more.

Out of the basin and tail dragging on the ground behind him, halfway between where Erik left him and the door, eyes opened wide, pale as a sheet, the fins along his spine and on the sides of his tail held wide… 

But Erik was more focused on one single detail.

“I _just_ mopped up.” Erik groaned aloud, staring at the water dripping off the siren to puddle around him. 

Really now, couldn’t he have waited just a few more minutes before deciding to make a run for it? 

Well, whatever.

The towels were all wet from earlier, still. He didn’t have anything to clean it up with at the moment, but the floor wasn’t exactly going to be damaged by a bit of water. He could get it later.

The siren didn’t respond. Didn’t move.

Didn’t even _look away_ from Erik from where he’d frozen in place. 

Didn’t even so much as blink.

Again, Erik wondered about intelligence. “You… Alright?” He managed to ask, reaching out his free hand… something. He couldn’t help the siren up, and he doubted any human sign of comfort translated well to whatever this creature was accustomed to.

But the second Erik moved the siren sprung back to life, moving away as quickly as he could, falling back to his hands, a drawn-out ‘ _n_ ’ sound that almost seemed like the beginning of a word before it fell away to a frightened keening sound.

Erik took his hand away, letting it drop back down harmlessly at his side.

What was he supposed to do?

Swallowing hard, feeling his heart thudding for an entirely different reason than exertion. “I-“ he started off, unsure of himself. How did he know this creature even understood his language? But it was all he had. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He spoke slowly and steadily, hoping that if nothing else, his tone could express what he was trying to say. “You’re safe here.”

The siren didn’t speak, didn’t move.

Still frozen, looking all the world more like a deer caught in headlights than a siren.

Erik didn’t know what had harmed him. What was entirely wrong with him that caused him to wash up on his little island.

He needed to be slow, careful, and nonthreatening.

But he wasn’t sure how else to appear that way.

He wasn’t threatening, he didn’t think. He was thin, frail. He was missing an eye and hobbled on - his _cane_.

He supposed it looked like a weapon, in a sense.

He could stand without it for a while.

So, he let it clatter to the floor.

The sound was sharp and loud like a gunshot, startling both himself and the siren, but before Erik could try to speak again, the siren finally made a move.

He made a lunge for the cane.

In but a few seconds and in a feat of mobility that was honestly impressive for someone without legs and with the lower half of a clumsy fish, Erik was joining him on the ground, tripped up by the said tail, and the handle of his cane pressed to his throat, the siren’s hands steady, but his eyes alight with fear.

He still didn’t make a sound through his bared and gritted teeth, each one frighteningly sharp, like staring up a shark. 

Erik’s hands were already in sight, both by his smarting head, thankfully. He wouldn’t have been able to move them, otherwise if how he was being crushed by the merman was anything to go by. He spread his fingers, and spoke quickly, no time to try and take this slow.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He repeated. “I just want to help.”

The handle did not move from his throat.

“Can you understand me?” Erik asked, begging whatever it was that sent this merman to him that it could. 

The siren’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded, but the handle still did not move. Erik was still an enemy in his eyes, still an unknown danger.

“Can you speak?” He decided to ask.

Another nod, then- he shook his head no.

That _didn’t make any sense_. How could he mean-

Oh.

“You can…” Erik ventured, “But you won’t?”

A single, short nod. 

_That_ made things more complicated.

Erik closed his eyes and took a single deep breath. 

This wasn’t Erik defeated.

He _knew_ defeat, he knew what it was to be truly beaten, and this was not it.

If it were, he wouldn’t be able to make an argument, he’d simply be dead.

And with an opponent like this, a creature famed for killing sailors… He was sure that if he was truly in danger, he wouldn’t be here now to consider what to do next.

No.

This siren had no intention of killing him.

All Erik needed to find were the right words to get himself free.

“I just want to help,” Erik said again, feeling the beginnings of his voice cracking. He really didn’t speak much, these days. “You washed up here on my island. You’ve hit your head, I just want to make sure you’re safe.” He explained carefully and dared to peek back up at the siren. “I mean you no harm. If you want to go, then you can go.”

The handle of his cane was gone.

The merman was moving away from Erik, much slower this time, and in a fashion much more awkward, almost comical. 

Though it did make sense, Erik decided, sitting up slowly and watching the merman scoot away, and tuck his fin underneath himself, Erik’s stolen cane still in hand.

Careful to keep his weight off his bad leg, Erik found himself sitting on the ground, not unlike how the merman was, his legs off to the side, his weight supported by his hands.

Until he got his cane back, he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d overdone it enough today that he knew he’d be sore and smarting for a week.

Now that Erik was getting a good look at him this close-up, awake, and _not_ being threatened, Erik could see a couple of concussion signs right away. 

The merman’s eyes looked no different than a regular human’s, but his pupils were different sizes, one smaller than the other by a good margin, and he wasn’t steady.

Now that he wasn’t feeling as if his life was being threatened, he was sitting upright, and Erik could see a gentle sway to his posture. 

For as much as Erik knew, these two things could be normal, but he wasn’t willing to take a chance.

If this creature would just let him _help_ \- 

Erik tried to dredge up some sympathy for the siren.

If humans were responsible for the state he was in his fear and uncooperative behavior was hardly something to get mad at.

Feeling like a broken record, Erik repeated himself one more time. “I just want to help.” He said, “You’re in no state to be out there on your own.” Unless… He wasn’t? We’re there more like him, around his island, just beneath the waves, evading him since he had arrived. “Are you alone?”

A nod.

The siren looked down at the floor, and his grip on Erik’s cane grew tight. He was alone, but not of his own choice.

Just like Erik was, really.

But a fresh new start of empathy or not, this was getting frustrating.

He needed a good way to communicate with this siren, and yes and no questions weren’t cutting it.

And if he couldn’t speak, then…

“Can you read?” Perhaps a long shot. What use would a creature of the sea have with dusty old books?

A nod. Of course. Even a merman could read better than Erik.

But it was a start. He had paper, and charcoal stick around here somewhere, if he could just get to them.

“Can I have that back?” Erik asked, gesturing to the wooden cane. “I can’t walk without it.” This was getting old, fast. “I promise, I won’t hurt you. It’s not a weapon, it’s just to help me.”

The siren gave in, letting the cane drop to the ground between them. 

Maybe he felt bad, now that he knew what the stick was. Or maybe he just gave up, prepared for whatever happened next. 

“Thank you.” Erik sighed, still moving slowly as he got himself to his feet, and even going as far as to move around the siren the long way to the drawer he needed, the difference in distance mere inches but more all the same.

He still didn’t know what this thing was capable of, and keeping his distance was staying safe. 

By the bookshelf, there was a small desk. He didn’t know why. He never used it, never had any need for the charcoal pencils, or the blank parchment in the drawer.

He could hardly read, what use would he have for writing?

But even for just this, he was grateful. 

Pencils in hand, empty notebook tucked under his arm, Erik returned to the siren and sank back down to the floor.

Eye-level, on equal ground. 

He handed over his prizes. “Write.” He said, “I’ve got a few questions.”

But the siren was already pressing the tip of the pencil to the paper, the scraping sound of the charcoal all to be heard.

In seconds, the book was thrust back at him. The siren’s wet hands had left spots in the corner, but the looping, the elegant text was smudge-free. 

Again, why did a merman have such neat handwriting?

Too neat.

Erik did just fine with print press letters, and with simply written blocky writing, but this was different.

The loops were confusing, joining letters together and making Erik have to squint to identify what was written. It took an embarrassing amount of time, but at last, he could make it all out.

_My name is Eli_. 

_I was separated from my colony, caught in a fisher’s net. Head hurts, dizzy. Can’t swim well._

_You can really help?_

“Yeah, I’ll help,” Erik answered the written question, handing the paper back over. Even if he was dizzy, the fact that he still had the ability to write meant that his injury wasn’t all too serious.

He just needed rest.

And fortunately, that was something Erik could provide for the siren-

For Eli.

For god’s sake, it wasn’t as if he was doing anything else.

And maybe…

Maybe the company would be good to have.


	2. Time Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I’m sorry, but I’d rather stay out here, if it’s all the same. But I’ll see you tomorrow?’
> 
> “Yeah.” Erik agreed just a little too fast, “In the morning.”

The rain outside had finally given way as the night crept in, all remaining of the day’s storm the blustering winds was the dripping of water from the doorframe. 

Quiet, again.

Pencil shavings, broken charcoal sticks, and papers scribbled full of answers and half-done sketches were strewn about around the two of them, carpeting the floor, and soaking up the droplets of water that remained.

Erik found himself learning more than he had even thought to ask about.

Eli didn’t know what a siren was, didn’t recognize the name selkie, and was only in passing familiarity with the term ‘merman.’ 

_ We don’t have a name for our own kind _ . He had written out. Humans were humans, but to the sirens below, they didn’t need a word to identify with. They were what they were. They had no need of a name for themselves when they lived in an us vs. them scenario with the sailors on the surface.

But what Eli did know of were the myths that surrounded his kind, and he was able to shed light upon them, and in turn, why he would not speak.

_ Humans carry magic in their hands _ , Eli had written,  _ they create beautiful, complicated things. We carry our magic in our voices. We can change that around us through word and song.  _

_ But it is difficult. Every word carries magic, it is often unstable and unpredictable. We can speak to each other without trouble, but humans are very susceptible to it _ . __

_ My magic is new. I do not yet understand it, and I will not put you at risk with it. _

It sounded so far-fetched.

Not the magic voices, that enough could be rationalized by Erik, explaining away the legends of sailors being lured away by silken voices and mesmerizing serenades. He didn’t know enough about the world to even question it, anyhow. What motive would Eli have for creating such fanciful tales?

No, what sounded unbelievable was what Eli seemed to believe of humans.

Magic in their hands, Magic to create.

Erik hadn’t created a single damn thing in his life worth anything at all.

He’d worked on looms as a child, yes, but he never saw the finished products. He never did anything with the threads he brought together.

He’d only destroyed as he grew older.

From slicing through the thin belly scales of the mackerel fished up, to the flesh of humans in his way.

If humans carried the magic of creation, then Erik was one human sorely lacking.

Hours, they had spent talking.

A back and forth Erik hadn’t ever known before, a feeling he wasn’t familiar with, something he couldn’t put a name to and had quickly begun to bud up inside him like the first growth of the spring.

It was faint, it was fragile, but it was there.

Something peaceful. 

Something warm.

Something that made Erik feel less alone.

How long had it been since he’d had a real conversation with another person?

Months, it seemed.

Eli was almost a blessing in disguise. 

He was sure they could keep going, sure that Eli would answer most any question Erik put forth, but the sound of Eli’s growling stomach broke the friendly spell that had fallen over them both.

Erik had before coaxed Eli back into the basin, and until the noise, he had barely been in it at all, tail fin sticking out the end, and from his waist up leaning out the side, hands braced on the edge in a way that made Erik worry about its balance, and had been just waiting for it to tip over and spill.

But after his stomach growled, Eli’s face turned an interesting shade of red, and he sunk back into the basin with a closed-off expression. 

Erik didn’t try to decipher that reaction, he just wasn't bothered enough by it.

Erik wasn’t exactly short on supplies, between his little garden, the dried goods he’d get on occasion from his old crew, and the plentiful ocean at his doorstep. 

When Erik brought Eli inside with the intent of cleaning the wound on his head, and helping him back onto his… fins? It wasn’t as if feeding him wasn’t something he’d been willing to do.

“You eat fish, yeah?” Erik asked, slowly getting back to his feet, and trying not to wince as his back cracked audibly from the simple movement.

He’d overdone it by a wide margin.

Tomorrow was going to be hell.

Eli was staring at him unblinkingly, his tail folded up so that he was resting his arms on it.

Big eyes opened wide, not a muscle moved. 

Maybe Erik was just out of practice with reading the expressions on another person’s face, but he really hadn’t a clue what Eli was displaying. 

Shock? Confusion?  _ Fear? _

Had he fucked up?

Maybe fish was the wrong thing to offer… Trust his luck to offer meat to a herbivorous creature. Erik didn’t turn away yet, still looking at the merman. It was a simple yes or no question. He didn’t need the notebook for that, right?

A single, slow nod. 

There, that wasn’t so hard.

Erik hobbled over to where the old wood fire stove sat. 

There was still plenty of good firewood piled inside, Erik didn’t typically use it every day, preferring to eat the things he had preserved or salted, things he didn’t need to prepare, when the hunger pangs got too much to ignore.

But good food was key in getting better, so out of practice or not, Erik lit the fire and tried to remember how to make stew.

He felt eyes on him the whole time he spent cooking, heard the small splashed of the merman moving around, and he tried not to let it unnerve him. 

Should he be talking?

Filling up the silence on his own?

It wasn’t as if Eli could say anything back, but… 

“So, uh… Eli…” Erik started, and immediately slowed. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. 

He didn’t have anything to do until the pot came to a boil. Looking over his shoulder, Eli didn’t even try to hide that he’d been staring.

Was he always that rude?

Was that considered rude for sirens?

Maybe it was the concussion.

The siren tilted his head to the side, waiting for Erik to continue. 

“It’s, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Erik said, turning away. 

It figures the first time he got a real guest here, that they wouldn’t be able to speak. 

Fish stew… Wasn’t he supposed to add wine to this? 

He didn’t have any wine, only ale.

Not that he ever drank it, maybe he could use it?

But surely adding that would be disastrous. Maybe he should just stick to the basics.

It wasn’t as if Eli would be too picky, anyway. He came from the sea, they didn’t exactly have stoves and stews with fancy ingredients down there, would they?

_ Shit _ . Does he even cook his food? Should Erik be offering him this? 

Well, the stew was done and it was a little too late to back out now.

Erik ladled out a bowlful, and brought it over Eli, who took the offered bowl, but did not eat.

Was everything going to feel this tense while he’s around? 

Erik settled back on his bed with his own bowl, and tried to ignore how weird everything felt.

But once Erik began to eat, so did Eli.

Turns out, he’d been ravenous. Easily polishing off three bowls to Erik’s one before finally slowing down.

“Do you normally eat this much?” He just about managed to ask as Eli finally,  _ finally  _ sighed contentedly as the fourth serving was scraped clean, and the pot was emptied. 

Erik had plenty of stores, but he hardly wanted to crack them open if he didn’t have to. 

A flush rose high on Eli’s cheeks, and his eyes grew wide. Dropping the bowl down on the floor, he made a lunge for the papers. 

_ I’m sorry! I don’t. I just don’t know when the last time I ate was. _

The letters were messier than before, but whether that was because of his hurriedness to apologize or something else, Erik didn’t know. “Don’t worry about it.” Erik said, taking the bowl up from the floor to deposit back on the table neither of them ate at. He could clean the mess up in the morning. “Try to get some sleep.” Erik said, settling back on his bed and turning the lantern’s flame down low. It wouldn’t be the first night he spent awake, but still, he had a long night ahead of him.

Eli wouldn’t have been the first concussed person Erik had to watch over. 

A pirate was hardly a safe thing to be, and he and his crew had more than their fair share of close calls, but it wasn’t often that they’d be willing to look after each other if one was sick or injured. Erik and Derk were lucky to have each other, lucky that they didn’t have to fend for themselves when they needed rest. 

He knew what he needed to do.

Wake him consistently until his pupils go back to regular size, and keep him still. 

It didn’t seem all too bad a hit, the bleeding having stopped by morning, but Eli was hardly out of the woods. 

Unsure if the tired and frustrated merman would allow any more contact than strictly necessary, Erik pressed a fresh gauze to the wound. 

Head wounds were always nasty, hard to judge, and quick to go south. Erik didn’t have much in the way to clean it out with if anything did change. Best to keep it under wraps until it closed up, then.

Eli, however, hated the bandages. Erik felt like he was watching a child, constantly having to slap away a hand that got a little too close to pulling it all away. 

“Do you  _ want  _ it to go septic?” Erik asked each and every time, drawing frustrated looks, and on more than one occasion, a stuck-out tongue.

Well. It seemed like sirens were not too different from humans, if that still meant what Erik thought it did.

As frustrated as Erik got in turn, he couldn’t really fault Eli for his less than stellar behavior and only just above thankless attitude. 

Erik knew all too well what it was like to be helpless, entirely at the will and mercy of those around him. 

But at least he was still able to move about on his own, limited and slow as it was.

Eli relied on him for even that much, having to be carried where he needed to go. 

Erik wondered exactly what the evolutionary benefit of merpeople was. 

He tolerated Eli’s more petty behaviors, at least until one night, he was woken by the sound of sniffling. 

Eli was backlit, almost invisible even with the light from the small windows high above their heads, but Erik didn’t need to see to know what he was doing.

“Eli?” He asked, keeping his voice low as he sat up and moved to the edge of his bed. He didn’t want to startle him, but if he was in this much pain, if he had been hiding it… “Does it hurt?”

Eli only curled further in on himself, his face pressed into his arms, and his tail coiled in close as his shoulders shook in his scarcely silenced sobs.

“Eli-“ Erik pressed, getting down to the floor and moving close to the basin. But as soon as his hand came in contact with the merman-

_ “Oof _ -“ All the air was knocked from Erik’s lungs as the flat of Eli’s fin caught him across the face and sent him back into the floor. “God _ damnit _ , Eli!” Erik growled as he pushed himself back up, the lid knocked clean from his temper. “I’m just trying to help! If you want to leave and deal with being injured on your own, just say so, you’re free to go!”

Eli was looking at him as if  _ he  _ was the one that had just been slapped across the face.

His mouth opened for a moment, as if he was about to speak, before he thought better of it. 

Eli wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, and shook his head.

Eli closed his fingers together, moving his wrist. Mining as he was drawing-

Paper. He needed paper.

Erik nearly decided to ignore the request, to turn his back and go back to sleep. If Eli was going to be such an ungrateful little shit-

But Erik wasn’t cruel.

If Eli really needed to say something, or if he just wanted to apologize, Erik wasn’t going to deny him the ability.

_ I’m sorry.  _ Was written out at the top of the page.  _ I didn’t mean to hit you. I don’t mean to be so difficult. It’s hard, trusting you to help. _

Erik could sympathize with him for that, had since he first showed up. Maybe he should’ve said something. Maybe it would’ve made El feel better.

He took the journal back, and wrote out a few more lines.

_ Bad dream. _ Nothing more, nothing less written out. 

That was something Erik could understand. At the risk of upsetting Eli further, “You need to talk about it?”

_ My family. My mum, my sister, her wife.  _

“They must miss you.” Erik said, unsure of how to go about comforting him. 

Erik never had any family, really. Never knew his parents, never knew if he had any siblings or cousins or kin at all. 

It took until the sun had begun to creep over the horizon, but Erik let Eli ramble, asked the questions he felt he should, he may not be able to relate, but he could listen.

He listened as Eli told him his mum wasn’t his biological relative, and that his sister Jade wasn’t either, but that she took them both in when they needed her, even when she didn’t have to. 

He listened as Eli told him of what he was afraid of.

His people didn’t typically stay still very long. They were constantly on the move, from place to place, and he was scared that he had missed them already.

_ They’d all wait for me, I know they would. _ Eli had written,  _ But I don’t know for how long. I don’t want them to lose the rest of the colony while they wait just for me.  _

He was afraid of the alternative as well. He was afraid that they had already left. That he had been gone too long, and after Gemma missed his hand, after Jade failed to cut the net before he was taken, that they had assumed the worst.

But what scared Eli the most…

Was just how lost he was.

_ The waters here are cold, and the sky is always grey. The fish are unfamiliar. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how to get home. _

He’d stopped writing after that. As if the confession had taken all the words he had to give.

And Erik couldn’t begin to offer any kind of comfort.

He couldn’t exactly give Eli directions home, or point him in the direction of the waters he came from. 

But at the least…

“I know what it feels like, to be lost and alone like that.” Erik said. He hadn’t planned on spilling his own guts. Hadn’t ever stopped to examine his own past as anything other than a casual observer, either. But if it could help, then he was willing to give it a try. “I can’t leave this island. No one else really ever comes by. You’re the first person I’ve spoken to in months, the first I’ve met in years.”

Erik glanced up from where he held his hands in his lap, idly scanning the criss-cross of scars along his arms. Old battles, all of them, but he could still name each one. Sword. Burn from gunpowder. Accident. Accident. Knife. Knife. 

Eli was listening, the fins on either side of his head perked up, and again Erik was tempted to ask their exact purpose. “It’s… Good. Having you around.” Erik paused, wondering if that sounded too familiar, too open. “Having some company.”

There was another hand on his forearm, hesitantly wrapping around his wrist. 

It wasn’t words, it wasn’t writing, but as Erik met the siren’s eyes, he knew exactly what was being said.

They understood each other.

For now, they were both stuck here.

For now, they both needed each other.

And as long as that held true, they may as well stick close.

Even though when they had finished speaking, the sun had already risen, neither of them started the day until much later. 

Erik tried to get a little more rest, and Eli the same.

But when Erik did finally rise from bed, things were different.

Eli wrote more, let Erik help with only minimal trouble, and didn’t flinch or stare half as much. 

A few more nights passed in a similar manner, less crying, but more just talking.

Learning.

Eli didn’t speak much more of his family, and Erik still remained stiff-lipped about his own past. 

There wasn’t any need to dredge any of it up.

Instead, they spoke of nothing much. Of the differences of the ocean Eli knew, and the one he had found himself in.

Erik answered the questions to things he didn’t know, questions about the structure he was in, about what was cooking, unfamiliar with nearly everything that went into what he made.

No clue about the vegetables or grains, and only recognizing the fish.

Erik made the mistake of asking if Eli thought his food was good.

Eli had backpedaled after his initial answer, trying to smooth over his harsher words with the fact that he just wasn’t used to it. 

Erik hadn’t even been offended. He’d wanted an answer, and he’d gotten one, but Eli acted as if he’d just insulted Erik’s mother rather than his mediocre cooking skills. 

Erik had laughed at how flustered Eli had become, and with the sudden spark of pure  _ joy  _ it had brought… 

Erik realized he didn’t remember when he had last laughed.

Slowly, the days began to pass in a new way. 

Erik could tell them apart.

Each one was different.

He still woke at the crack of dawn to feed the chickens and fish. He still cleaned every evening and took his time making his slow way up the stairs every evening, but in between these chores, Eli made a difference. 

Before the days all bled together. Everything was all nearly identical in his routine.

Even though Eli didn’t leave the lighthouse, and spent most of his time either in the basin or half-sitting, half-lounging in one of the chairs, tail kicked up over the table, it was everything else that brought on change. 

Things Erik had that he never touched before suddenly came of use.

The chess set that sat under the desk gathering dust found a home on the table.

Erik only knew about half the rules, but that was fine. Eli didn’t know any, so improvising wasn’t too hard. 

It also helped that neither of them ever really lost when neither really knew what they were doing.

The books on the shelf also started coming down. Erik still struggled with them, but they weren’t really for him, now.

Hopefully they weren’t actually all that valuable, and they really were just here for Erik’s amusement, and that the water spots on the page corners weren’t a big deal. 

The only thing they still struggled with was communication.

Writing was fine, and Erik was quickly becoming more and more adept with Eli’s flowery handwriting, but there were still times where it was difficult. 

Particularly when Eli needed to speak, but water ruined the paper he needed.

But even that issue was soon solved.

Erik had been scanning the shelves, looking for something new, when three matching spines caught his eye.

Three he hadn’t ever taken from the shelves at all.

Cracking open the carefully bound cover, Erik found his solution.

“Eli!” Erik brought all three over to the table, ignoring the alarming way the wooden surface shuddered as he slammed them down on top. 

The siren started awake from the sudden noise with a snort and a start, Erik’s old tricorne falling from where he’d settled it over his eyes. 

He was glaring at Erik from his spot, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Sure, he was upset now, but that would hardly last.

Not when they had three entire books to pour over together.

Eli picked it up fast. 

It was awkward, and it was slow, but by the end of the week, he had enough of the basics down to do away with most of the papers. He gave his reason as it being similar to a much simpler set of signals and signs his people used when they needed to stay quiet. 

By the end of the season, the papers weren’t needed at all, and Eli had gone from silent, to utterly unstoppable.

But as the time passed learning it, came the day that they no longer needed it.

Eli was healed.

‘I don’t want to leave without paying my debt.’ Eli told Erik the morning he was meant to leave. He was fully recovered by now, just as strong as he had ever been, the only proof he was ever unwell was a faint mark above his brow. 

“You don’t owe me anything.” Erik answered, stirring the pot he had on the stove without looking. Safe? Probably not, but he’d rather deal with a scald than not be able to see if Eli had something to say. If he was leaving, then Erik was hardly about to send him off on an empty stomach. “I didn’t help you for any gain.” 

‘Still,’ Eli pressed on, ‘You helped me so much. Fed and sheltered me, and put up with me when I was an ass.’

“You were  _ concussed _ -“ Erik tried to argue. He really didn’t see Eli in his debt at all. 

Even with everything he did for Eli, he felt like Eli had done even more for him. He’d been a companion, a driving force for Erik to really feel like he was alive again, doing more than just sleeping and eating. Even pushing him to learn an entire language - and even as much as he would hate to see Eli go, it would be a success. “You don’t even owe me an apology.” 

‘Please just let me try something?’ Eli asked one last time from his seat at the table, ‘If it doesn’t work, or you really don’t want to try, I’ll leave. Promise.’

Partly suspicious, Erik set the lid on the pot to simmer, and sat down across from the siren. “And what would it be?”

Eli took a moment to glance away, as if he was embarrassed, before he asked a single question. ‘Would you mind telling me what happened to your leg?’

Erik felt his expression close off. 

He didn’t really want to answer. He knew that Eli wouldn’t push if he told him he didn’t want to talk about it, but Eli had been open and honest with him before and it would only be right to give him the same courtesy. “It broke, and didn’t heal right.” Erik explained, telling the truth but not giving any details. “It happened a few years ago. Not much else to be said. What about it?” 

‘That’s what I thought.’ Eli said, but his eyes had gone bright, as if that was exactly what he wanted to hear. ‘Listen, when my people are injured, it used to be a death sentence. We took care of them, of course, but when you can’t escape danger… Bad things happen. But there’s a way to strengthen around the injury. It isn’t a complete fix, but if you were willing to try…’

If there was a way to get back any amount of strength in that leg, Erik would be willing to try.

Even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone.

It felt as if his heart was in his throat as Erik carefully took another step forward, deeper into the surf, the water just reaching his chest, and as his foot slid in the loose sands and he lurched forward it felt as if it was about to come up entirely along with his breakfast. 

His head was only under the water for a moment before Erik caught his balance, and Eli caught him as well. 

Erik wrapped an arm around the merman’s shoulders, grateful for the extra help as he tried to wipe seawater from his face before any streamed into his remaining eye.

“H-hold on-“ Erik said, still swiping at his now soaked bangs, but managing to just see Eli’s hands move in a question he didn’t quite catch. “Say that again?”

‘You alright?’

No. There was water in his ears and he would be tasting salt water all day. But. It was okay. “Yeah.” Erik answered, letting Eli go to stand on his own. 

This was helping, he had to remind himself. He could handle a few dunks under the water if it meant he didn’t have to rely on his cane so much. 

‘Ready to go farther?’

The drop off was only a few feet away. Erik could feel the slope of the earth beneath his feet, and even though he knew the waters so well-

The thought of nothing beneath his feet would always be terrifying. 

‘I won’t let you go. I promise.’

Eli did not need to say that, Erik trusted the merman entirely, knowing he wouldn’t be in any danger with him there. 

The merman swam back in the tide, not far away enough so that he was out of reach, but only far enough to give Erik the space he needed.

He was going to be fine.

Fine. The word played on repeat in his mind, and ever so carefully, Erik slid his feet on the sand, moving forward, down the steepening slope, until his chin was just barely out of the water. 

Any further and-

His feet were off the ground, suspended up by treading water. 

It didn’t feel safe.

Erik only ever swam when there was a rowboat he needed to get into. Only ever got in the water to bathe, or to dig up clams for bait. This- this was something entirely new.

Maybe it was too late for him to learn to swim properly. 

All Erik knew to do was to tread water, to just keep his head above the surface.

He almost told Eli to give up.

Whatever the water did for broken bones in tails surely wouldn’t even translate to strengthening a long-healed break, right?

But Eli was patient.

He was kind when Erik needed help.

And Erik wasn’t going to disappoint him when he really only wanted to help.

They’d gone out a bit too far, the even shore he’d set out from far in the corner of his vision, but even as his arms strained and both his legs burned from the expended effort, somehow… Somehow Erik didn’t yet feel tired. 

He wasn’t ready to go back. He wanted to stay out here in the rising tide, wanted to stay where he and Eli were together, where Eli was free to swim, doing nothing much more than showing off with loops and twirls just under the surface, coming up to the air with his hair plastered down over his eyes, making Erik laugh loud enough that he almost couldn’t breathe-

Eli swam close, and Erik held onto his shoulders for stability, letting himself rest, safe and sound, entirely supported by the siren.

Maybe he was showing signs of being overworked after all, or maybe Eli was getting tired. 

In just a few quick movements, Eli had Erik held differently, one arm hooked underneath his legs, and his shoulders held with the other, and though his heart still fluttered with unease as Eli began to swim, and Erik was lowered ever so slightly further into the sea. 

He wasn’t going to be let go. And even if he was, Erik could swim well enough to stay afloat long enough-

But Eli wasn’t swimming them further out. He was bringing them closer to the cliff side, and depositing Erik down on a spot where the crashing waves had carved out a shelf in the stone.

Sitting here, Erik was still chest-deep in the water, but he couldn’t help but admit it was nice, and appreciate having the break without needlessly working Eli harder. 

There was plenty of room on the little shelf, and Erik expected Eli to sit next to him.

Only-

Eli’s hands weren’t reaching out to pull himself up.

Instead, they were only coming to cradle the side of Erik’s jaw.

It wasn’t something Erik had expected.

It wasn’t something he had known he  _ could  _ expect.

But now, everything seemed to make sense. 

It started off slow, gentle. 

Almost hesitant, as if Eli was unsure of himself. As if there was any way in the world that Erik wouldn’t have been receptive to this change.

But as Erik responded in kind to Eli’s movements, his own hand fisting in his hair, and holding tight to his upper arm, Eli began to grow bolder.

The way this all fit together was more than just awkward, with Erik half-sitting, half-pressed into the stone behind him as Eli still had to move his tail enough to stay afloat.

But that hardly mattered. 

Not when everything around them had fallen away.

For this moment, Erik wasn’t thinking of the pain in his leg, or the swim back to shore, or what would happen after Eli left.

None of that mattered right now.

Not when Eli’s touch burned so hot against the ice of the ocean waters.

Not when Erik felt just how far he’d fallen for his siren.

Without warning, or perhaps they had only missed it, a tall wave crashed over them both.

If Erik was already soaked to the bone before… 

they hadn’t any other option than to break off the moment the water hit them both, but now they were both spluttering, the sudden mouthfuls of seawater hardly had a pleasant change, and was even less pleasant as a wake-up call.

Eli tried to suppress it at first, but it was a futile effort. Within seconds, he was laughing loudly, hardly able to stop himself, magic or not.

It should’ve been contagious, and while Erik did feel the beginnings of a smile on his own face, he didn’t laugh.

He was too distracted. 

By the high notes in the air, the way Eli’s cheeks had flushed, the way he clung to Erik as his raucous laughter kept on. 

It made his heart skip.

So easily, these feelings had come.

And so quickly they grew.

It wasn’t long before they both decided that should be the end of their first excursion, and they both made it back to the shore. “I could probably still carry you-“ Erik was cut off by the shake of Eli’s head, and he was momentarily grateful for the negative answer. Carrying Eli down from the lighthouse was hard enough, taking him back now could very well have been impossible.

‘I’m sorry, but I’d rather stay out here, if it’s all the same. But I’ll see you tomorrow? If you want, we can keep trying this. I’ll be sticking around until I’ve paid you back.’

“Yeah.” Erik agreed just a little too fast, “In the morning.”

It almost feels wrong to leave Eli there.

But Erik says his goodbyes anyway before trudging back up the hill.

He’s sore all over, but Eli insists that it’ll only get easier from here.

And really, he doesn’t mind all that much. 

It’s oddly quiet, when Erik closed the door behind him.

Even if Eli was almost completely silent, his presence filled the room more than he possibly should have.

But it wasn’t a bad quiet.

Erik wasn’t completely alone.

Eli was still out there, just under the waves. 

And every morning, Erik joined him.

It was slow going, but it was worth it.

And as the days passed, and Erik spent more and more time on the shore and in the water, he did begin to notice a difference.

The bone wouldn’t ever go back to being exactly how it should, and it would likely always twinge and ache when he used it too much, but somehow, Eli had been right.

All he really needed to do was strengthen it, and the water did so much to help that along.

Without having to keep any weight on it, he was able to exercise it longer, and it caused less pain as the process went on.

So much time felt like it was going by in the blink of an eye. Mornings and afternoons Erik frittered away, doing not much of anything. 

But it was so much more fun than it had ever been before. 

Erik was hardly ever in his lighthouse anymore, almost only returning to it to sleep. 

A blanket was laid out on the sand, now. Games and books and meals to be shared on it, though it was mostly unnecessary. 

Erik had long ago become accustomed to having sand and saltwater stuck to his skin and clothes.

And while today should have been no different… 

The bright light that hit Erik’s single eye as he opened the door took him by surprise.

Erik never actually bothered to count, had no way of recording it, and even if he did he doubted he would have anyway, but more days passed over in grey overcast clouds than it ever did in clear skies, and even rarer were days that were bright enough to hurt.

The air was warm around him as Erik went about his morning chores, bordering on being too hot.

He rolled up his sleeves as he decided to head down to the shore early, and hoped that Eli was willing to give another swim lesson.

The ocean should be plenty to cool him down, and he never did care about frittering away hours just sitting in the wash of the tide.

He did wish that he could do a little more than that, though. Eli didn’t ever mind Erik’s limits, and was sure to never keep him out too long, or to take him out too far, but it still wasn’t much. He couldn’t dive beneath the waves like Eli could. 

He couldn’t explore the seabed alongside him.

But speaking of… Eli was already here, already dragged up on the bank before Erik even showed up with his line. 

But he wasn’t sitting up or watching the clouds drift by. 

Eli was stretched out along the dark slate stone right where the sun shone the brightest, and once again, even after seeing him nearly every day for months, Erik found himself starstruck and captivated. 

A fantastical being already, made all the more ethereal by the warm light of the sun. 

The lavender scales of his tail turned vibrant, the golds of his fins shimmering, the light catching off his drying hair, highlighting the warm undertones of color. 

A fish basking in the sun, not unlike a housecat.

Perhaps Erik made some noise, or maybe Eli had sensed that he wasn’t alone any longer.

One eye peeked open, and when he caught sight of Erik, dumbstruck just a little further away, he smiled.

_ Brighter than the sun _ , Erik thought.

Pushing up on one hand, Eli waved for Erik to join him.

Erik should ask if Eli was positive his magic was purely vocal, if there was any way he could cast a spell without speaking, because he truly felt like a man in a trance as he walked to Eli’s side, and sat down on the stone next to him, legs stretched out next to Eli’s tail, but sure to leave a respectful distance between them. 

Eli noticed, and let out a short laugh, closing the small distance himself with a hand on Erik’s jaw, pulling him down to where he lounged, pressing a kiss to Erik’s lips.

It was short, much sweeter than the last that had been suddenly interrupted by the cascade of ocean water. 

Eli broke away, but didn’t move away.

Erik nearly shivered, being held still by that gaze, by the blue more vivid than the sky.

If it had been anyone else… Erik wouldn’t have been able to stomach the attention. He would’ve turned away, hidden his own ruined eye, but Eli didn’t treat it any differently. 

Maybe it was because he never knew Erik before he lost the sight in that eye, before he had the scar that stretched from his ear to across the bridge of his nose, but the why’s and how’s didn’t matter. 

Eli took his hand away, and asked Erik to stay. 

And it wasn’t like Erik had anything else to do. Or anything that he’d rather be doing. 

The stone was hard and unyielding under his back, but that was fine. 

Eli nestled his head on Erik’s collar, and held him in place with one arm laid out over his chest. Whether it was uneven slate or a feather pillow wouldn’t have made a difference to Erik like this.

The only thing he would have changed, would be knowing that this would soon come to an end.

So, he sought a way to make it last longer.

Erik had no plans on making Eli stay, or even asking him to remain with Erik forever, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to drag out their time together just a little while longer. 

His leg was stronger than it had been since the break. He could swim out almost without assistance, and hardly even needed his cane unless he was going to be making a longer walk. 

He was even healthier in ways that Eli hadn’t intended to change. 

Erik was well, Eli’s debt was paid, and he wasn’t ready for everything to end.

Just a few more days, and Erik would be satisfied. 

Just a little more time together.

So, Erik found himself at his bookshelf again, scanning the spines until he found the familiar books. 

They’d learned every sign that they would practically need, and even more on top of that, but they had hardly exhausted the tomes of their knowledge. 

Erik pulled the first from the shelf, and began flipping through it.

He hadn’t been looking for any word or set in particular, but didn’t stop until one page caught his eye.

Diagrams and descriptions for many signs covered the paper, but one sign in particular stood out to Erik.

He didn’t know if he should use it.

Didn’t know how Eli would react to him trying to teach it, either. 

But here, alone in his home, Erik mimicked the sign he saw in the book. Ring and middle fingers pressed to his palm, and the rest splayed out.

_ Love _ . 

There were two other versions of the word drawn out next to it, but this one felt right. 

Surely it had to be? The other seemed so informal in its definition, and the other…

Well, he wasn’t even ready to use this one, let alone something marked as being so serious.

So meaningful.

But if Eli was just as new to this as he was… 

Surely showing him this would come off as a confession.

There just wouldn’t be any way it  _ wouldn’t _ .

But what was there to stop him?

Eli was leaving soon.

Erik should get the chance to tell him, just once.

Somehow, Erik thought he was going to be more nervous when he did finally tell Eli, but instead, he was only excited.

He  _ wanted  _ to tell him, and that was all that mattered.

Eli responded better than Erik could have hoped.

The book was quickly abandoned, their attention for it lost in favor of each other, but they were drawn away faster than Erik could have prepared for.

It was only a speck in the corner of his eye, but it was there all the same, approaching through the fog.

A ship.

A  _ pirate  _ ship.

One that Erik knew all too well.

Erik didn’t need to say a thing to Eli, who had already disappeared below the surface of the water, leaving Erik to sit alone to wait for the rowboat to stop on the shore.

Derk stepped out into the surf, the water splashing up his calves as he trodded through the muck to meet Erik.

“Erik!” His voice was high with glee, arms spread wide to pull Erik in, hands clapping him twice on the back before he let go. “How’ve you been, then? Hopefully it hasn’t been too long!”

“It’s been fine, always is.” Erik said easily, the words coming may as well have been from a script, though. He always said that. “Nothing ever goes wrong, here.” That, too.

Next, Derk would laugh, and say something about Erik’s little slice of paradise. 

Then he’d have the two men that towed out with him carry supplies up to the lighthouse-

Oh,  _ shit _ .

Had Erik cleaned up from Eli’s last visit?

Was there any reason he could give to ask them to wait? 

No, they weren’t bred to trust. Anything Erik would try to say would appear suspicious at best.

Perhaps-

“Erik?” Derk wasn’t following his script. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t making light of his visit. “Where is your eyepatch?”

_ Oh _ . Erik brought up a hand to press to the scarred skin over his eye.

He hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing it. “Must’ve- must’ve forgotten to put it on this morning.”

That was a good excuse, right? Derk didn’t know that Erik had still slept in it until a few weeks ago, right?

He had no way to know that Erik was ever so slowly coming to terms with his loss.

He had no reason to doubt what Erik said.

He should be safe from suspicion.

Especially if he could just remember that he should be limping more.

He should be falling ever so slightly back.

He should be more out of breath from the simple climb.

Erik never would have guessed how difficult it was to just  _ pretend  _ to be as weak as he had been.

But it was okay. He didn’t need to keep this up. When they get inside, he can collapse on his bed and with a few words claim he was too tired to see them off, and just like that, he’d be home clear.

Except, he didn’t clean up.

It wasn’t a  _ complete  _ mess.

There wasn’t any abnormal amount of seawater dropped on the floor. There were no bits of seaweed strewn about from Eli peeling the stuff from his hair and just letting it fall to the floor, forgetting that there were no ocean currents to sweep the floor.

But the desk was piled high with books. Papers and pencils strewn on the floor, and on the foot of his bed.

There were plates from breakfast in the sink, enough for two.

This would all be harder to explain away.

“It’s not like you to let it get this unkempt.” Derk said calmly as he stepped over some crumpled papers. “It doesn’t even look like you’ve swept.”

“Some days are harder than others, you know that.” Erik fended, looking away. “I was going to clean when I felt up to it.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. It is your home, after all. But I’m getting off track, I wanted to give you this, for safekeeping.” From the burlap sack, Derk pulled something that Erik would’ve recognized anywhere. The foreign sword. It was just as beautiful as Erik remembered it. Perhaps more, now that it was out of its case, and being handed off to him. 

“How…” Erik breathed, staring down at the artifact, “How did the Captain let you take this?”

“I am the Captain.” Derk said as Erik drew the blade partially out of its sheath.

Along the blade, more characters were inscribed.

He wondered if he had any books here on this language. If it would be possible even to look these up in the pages of one and translate it as he translates his voice into signs. It didn’t seem so, the differences too vast, but as a man who loved a merman, who was he to know? “We had a run-in with something real nasty not too long ago.” Derk explained, speaking over Erik’s question of ‘some _ thing _ ?’ “Lost a lot of crew that night, and our old captain was one of them. But I stepped up, had to cut a couple ‘a people down, had to knock more than a couple of heads, but finally, I’m at the top!”

Erik forced a smile. “That’s great, Derk.” He tried to feel happy for him. His old friend had achieved their old goal. He should be happy.

It wasn’t even as if Erik still wanted that life, right?

He was content here, with his home, and his chickens, and Eli. 

He didn’t still wish for the blustering winds and the rock of the ship beneath his feet. He didn’t miss the feeling of the handle of his own blade in hand, poorly substituted by one meant merely for decoration. 

Except… Now that Derk was in charge, perhaps he could come back aboard? He wasn’t fighting fit, but he was getting stronger. 

Maybe-

Maybe even Eli could tag along. They could look for his old home, together.

Pirates surely wouldn’t be open to having such a creature on board right away, but maybe if Erik was there to translate, maybe if Eli could try  _ some  _ magic to bring good fortune… And it wasn’t as though Erik would be asking for much. He’d earn his keep one way or another. He wasn’t above doing all the cooking or the cleaning. Not if it meant getting out of here. “Do you think I could-“

“It’s good to have you here, Erik.” Derk continued on through the smaller room, to where a hatch lay in the floor.

He pulled a single key from a loop around his waist, and Erik lay any hopes of returning to the sail to rest. “Someone I trust to watch over the valuables…” 

_ To watch over _ . Yeah. That was what he did.

He was a sentry, not a prize bird, left alone in a cage too small. 

“‘Course.” Erik forced the word past his teeth, hoping none of the resentment made it out alongside it. “Where else would I be? I really owe you a lot, for everything.” Erik heard his voice go low. Soft, almost. Perhaps Derk would take it as true gratitude, but really… Erik let his mind wander. 

He wasn’t thinking about the life he was gifted, or the future he was passed up.

He was thinking of his siren, waiting out in the waves for him.

But Derk-

He was looking at him oddly. 

Like Erik was being scrutinized. “I suppose you do.” He finally said, pocketing the key and letting the two other crew members store away their latest plunder. The hatch was shut, and Erik was alone with Derk. “I haven’t really asked you for much of anything in return, have I?”

Hardly! Erik wanted to scoff. All he’d been asked is to spend his entire life in solitude, in painful loneliness, a purgatory he was powerless to end. 

But suddenly…

Derk wasn’t his old friend anymore.

He didn’t know when the change occurred, but then again, how would he? 

So Erik didn’t say what he wanted to. He closed the sheath over the blade, and let it rest on his bed. “No,” Erik answered, swiping his patch from where he’d left it on his nightstand, and tying it in place. “I suppose you haven’t.” He leaned on his cane more than he needed to. Erik wasn’t the brightest flame, but he knew when to play dead. 

“Oh, don’t look that way!” Derk said, his cheerfulness returning in full. “I didn’t mean nothing bad, swear!”

Erik nodded, letting his silence speak for him as Derk continued around the room.

Never before had Erik felt like he had anything to hide.

Not once had he ever had a secret to keep, or a prize to be hidden away.

He didn’t like the feeling.

Didn’t like the constant shrink and spike of anxiety in his gut with each little thing that Derk noticed.

The papers strewn about the table were all notes. Tricks and patterns he and Eli had come up with to learn signs, thankfully not the drawings they had both begun to make.

“Learning a language, eh?” Derk asked, picking up a stack of the papers. “Got big plans?”

“Not as much.” Erik shrugs, trying to force his voice flat and even. He used to have it that way without even trying. What had changed? “Just passing the time. Books were here, why not use them?”

“Why not, indeed.” Derk mumbled under his breath. “Look at you go, reading, cooking… Did something happen? You seem so much more… Alert than you usually do.”

Erik begged whatever deity was listening to send Derk away. He didn’t know how long he could keep this up for. “Nothing spectacular.” Erik said, scratching at the back of his neck. “Just been a little bored.”

That sounded final, didn’t it?

Erik waited for Derk to press further to ask more questions, but the hatch door opened back up, and Erik heaved a silent sigh of relief.

“Well, Erik, we’ve done what we came to do. We’ll get out of your hair. And don’t worry about lighting the lantern tonight, of course! Save your energy.” He paused. “And maybe use it to straighten up.”

Erik forced a smile as he went, fighting back illness.

He waits on the cliff until the ship is but a speck upon the horizon, and makes his way back down to where he left Eli.

He isn’t there.

That was fine. He was probably still nearby, waiting just a little longer, just in case.

He’d show back up.

Erik sat back down on the stone, and took up the fishing line he’d left on the ground, casting it back out into the sea.

He wasn’t looking to catch anything, but rather to show that he was back.

If Eli saw the float, he’d come back up, right?

But the fish weren't biting, and even as the sky began to grow dark and the day faded to night, Eli did not appear.

There was no splash of the merman coming to shore.

There was no fin peeking above the water.

No glowing golden light from the patterns on his tail.

At last, Erik got up from where he sat.

It had to have been startling to see such a large ship on the horizon, especially with how Eli had been fished up not too far in the past.

He was afraid, surely. 

Erik wished he would’ve come back up and let Erik comfort him, if that was the case, but he understood.

Gathering up his things, Erik returned to his home.

When he saw Eli again, he could tell him he had nothing to fear.

Only-

He hadn’t seen Eli in days. 

Erik had been prepared for this to happen. He knew that he would eventually leave Erik’s little island, his little corner of the world.

But he wasn’t ready for it to happen so soon, so suddenly.

Not right after he had finally said… 

The merman hadn’t even said goodbye. 

Perhaps that was for the best, Erik wondered to himself in the solitary quiet of his home. 

He’d gotten too attached, and this very well could be the better alternative.

Eli was so kind, so eager to help, if Erik had to see him off…

He didn’t trust himself to not beg him to stay.

This was for the best.

Eli was finally going home, and Erik had his own back to himself.

He had his quiet again.

More days passed in this loneliness, and Erik felt it all the more. 

He found his eye trained on the shore, waiting for the flash of lavender scales that would signify Eli’s arrival… 

He saw them so often, in the corner of his eye, that one early fog-blanketed morning when he saw Eli in his entirety, in one of the low tide pools, Erik thought he’d finally been driven mad.

That was it, Erik thought to himself as Eli saw him staring and lifted a hand to wave him over. His mind was beginning to desert him, and it wouldn’t be very long until he was a mad sack of shit living alone without anything left to ground him to reality.

But as Erik didn’t move, too afraid to see his hallucination fade, Eli stopped waving. His arm moved back down to his side, and he suddenly looked so unsure of himself, Erik hadn’t any choice but to follow the vision. 

The grass under his feet became sand, and when Eli still looked real, still solid-

He couldn’t help but run the rest of the way, the jolting discomfort in his hip barely noticeable as he crashed down to his knees in the sand, taking Eli into his arms and holding tight.

“Where’d you go?” Erik asked the moment his brain caught up to his hands, and he knew that the Eli he held was real, was corporeal. “Why’d you come back?”

Eli tapped him twice on the shoulder, and Erik let him pull away to speak.

‘Never left.’ He said, ‘I stayed nearby. I’m sorry, I was scared.’

Scared? “What-“

‘Those men with the ship…’ Eli grew uncertain. ‘You know them?’

His old crew? “I do.” Erik answered, “They were who I sailed with, before my accident.”

‘Can I trust you?’ Eli asked, hands balling into fists over his chest, before they were being thrust into Erik’s hands. 

He didn’t know how to respond, this sudden outburst, more emotion displayed now than he even did in their less than ideal meeting.

“Of course you can trust me.” Erik said, apprehension beginning to pool in his stomach. Like the wall of a hurricane, Erik saw something horrible approaching on the horizon. “Eli, if you have something to say, then-“

His hands were moving again, his head bowed down, and it took longer than it should have for Erik to realize what he was saying.

It-

Erik felt sick, about as green around the gills as a new sailor. “No…”

‘They were the ones who hurt me. _ ’  _ Eli hadn’t ever explained entirely what had happened to him, how he had made it all the way from being separated to being lost and concussed in the cold oceans, on Erik’s shore. He hadn’t ever pried. He wasn’t going to make Eli go over every last little detail. Just saying “fished up” those months ago had been more than enough for Erik, but now… His hands wouldn’t stop, rambling, carefully spelling out the words he didn’t have signs for.

Erik was lucky he’d learned this language alongside him, otherwise he would’ve had trouble keeping up with it all. 

‘I was caught by a net, at first.’ Eli signed, starting all the way at the beginning. ‘That wasn’t too bad. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but- I couldn’t get free. My tail was caught, and my sister couldn’t cut the line.’ His eyes, turned downward, stared off at something Erik couldn’t see.

The outreached hand of a sibling unable to help, or maybe the cold eyes of the human with Eli in their net, an unexpected treasure among the fish he’d set out to catch. 

‘I don’t know how long I was there.’ Eli said, ‘They kept me tied up, under deck. I didn’t see the light for days. They kept saying so many horrible things - I thought they were going to kill me.’

In the moment’s lull, Erik asked a question. “How did you get away?”

‘It wasn’t what I intended. I swear I hadn’t meant to bring them… They made me sing. I brought them bountiful catches, pearls in the mouths of the fish they caught. But they grew bored. Wanted more.

Decided to sell me.

I told you I know little magic. I can not control my song in the way others can. But I tried anyway. I tried to curse them. I tried to sink their ship. But it wasn’t a storm that made it sink.’

Erik felt as though he knew what was about to happen. Felt as if he’d lived through this story before. 

‘The pirates came on board, took the pearls, and took me.’

Erik wanted to question him, wanted to demand to know that it was really the same ship that had docked here, that he really recognized Derk as the one who’d harmed him, but he knew that he wouldn’t have been mistaken. He knew what Derk was, what even Erik used to be. They deserved no benefit of the doubt. Eli was telling the truth, and as he spoke, he only grew more and more terrified.

‘I wasn’t going to be a prisoner again. I couldn’t bear the thought. But these men were rougher. They demanded more from me. They spoke-‘

Eli’s words faltered. His hands fisted tightly, unable to form the sign he needed.

Erik’s heart was pounding in his chest. Cold terror began to shoot through his veins.

He couldn’t imagine what Eli was feeling.

He didn’t press. He didn’t try any calming platitudes. Eli would continue when he could, and Erik wouldn’t force a single word from him.

‘Our magic is well known. The myths you spoke of are not the only ones, however. We are taught to stay as far from humans as possible. Some of them believe our flesh heals illness, mends wounds, and brings eternal life.’

Erik knew what he was implying. He knew what it was that he had stopped himself from saying.

He didn’t need it spelled out, but still couldn’t bear to look away from what he said next.

‘Erik,’ his own name-sign. The letter E moving to form the word for ‘blue.’ He didn’t want his name anywhere near what came next, but he was frozen in place. ‘They wanted to butcher me.’

There it was.

He really didn’t need to hear that aloud.

He really didn’t need that image burned into his mind.

“I didn’t know.” Was the first thing out of Erik’s mouth. How could he have? But Eli… Eli needed assurance now. He needed assurance, but more importantly, he needed safety. 

Erik had mourned when he thought he wouldn’t ever see his siren again, but now. 

Now everything was different.

Eli  _ needed _ to go. For his own well-being, Erik’s newfound contentment be damned. “I didn’t know.”

He held tight, holding Eli so strongly it couldn’t have been comfortable, but the claws digging into his back held no gentler.

This would be it.

The last he saw of him, and even as the pain of loss was already digging its own sharpened talons into his heart, Erik wanted to treasure it.

There was so much he wanted to say.

So much he couldn’t ever repay him for. 

“I… I haven’t been one of them in a long time.” Erik began slowly, picking his words carefully. “They dumped me here after I got hurt, after I wasn’t any use to them anymore. I never would’ve- I couldn’t have hurt you like that.” But was that true? It was now, of course. But before… When he was a pirate, when he was just as cutthroat and ruthless as the rest… Would he have stood by as Eli or any of his kin were held captive? 

He was afraid to know the answer. 

But if Derk was out there looking for him, and he suspected that Erik had seen him, who knew how short their time was?

Who knew where Derk was, how quickly he could be here. 

It took every last scrap of his strength to let go.

Erik pulled back, but couldn’t disentangle himself all the way.

His hands still held Eli around his shoulders, even as he felt shaken to the core. “How did you get away from them?”

‘Some spells are easy to learn under duress, it seems. I found a way to put the guards to sleep, and that worked for most of them.’ A small, humorless smile grew on Eli’s face. ‘I was halfway to casting it on you when we met.’

Erik couldn’t find the presence of mind to smile back. 

‘I was nearly free, nearly off the ship when the ones that came to visit you caught me. I don’t- I don’t remember much after that. Just a pain in my head, falling from the ship, and then waking up here.’

“They might still be looking for you, then.” Erik said, trying to keep calm, trying to keep his voice steady, but failing horribly. The tremor was evident in both his hands and in his words. “Eli - it’s time for you to go.”

‘I don’t want to leave you behind.’ Erik’s hands weren’t the only ones that seemed to have developed a tremor. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’ His shoulders shook in Erik’s grasp, and his head tipped downward as if that could hide the tears that threatened to spill over.

This was why he didn’t want to say good-bye.

He couldn’t handle seeing him cry, couldn’t handle the soft, suppressed sobs as Eli stopped signing, his hands instead coming up to cover his eyes. 

Erik felt a tightness in his own throat, but he didn’t join Eli in tears.

He hadn’t cried in years, and even now he didn’t feel able. “I’m not important.” Erik said, carefully pulling Eli’s hands away, and replacing them with one of his own. He wiped away Eli’s tears, and cupped the side of his jaw. “You belong back home, Eli. What about your colony? Your family? They need you more than I do.” A clear lie, but… “It’s time for you to go home. Go find where they’ve gone.” He was repeating himself, but what else was there to say? 

Eli shook his head slowly, but he wasn’t trying to say ‘no’ to what Erik was telling him. He was leaving, and that was that, no matter what either of them wanted. 

Erik knew this would be the last he saw of his siren.

And as soiled a farewell as it was, by fear and threats and tears, he never wanted it to end.

So much he wanted his island to truly be a space separated from the rest of the world, frozen in space, frozen in time, cut off from all else… 

But it wasn’t.

Their time was short.

So Erik tilted Eli’s head up, and tried to commit every last detail of him to memory. The exact color of his hair, the size and color of the shells he had woven into it. How the fin at his ear sloped down from his head, the shimmer of the tiny scales in the light… 

He wouldn’t ever be able to recall everything.

His memory was never good with the small details.

“Promise me you won’t go and get yourself fished up again?”

Eli couldn’t help the half-laugh, half-sob that escaped him, but he did as Erik asked. 

He had to take his hand away to give Eli the room he needed to speak.

His hand felt cold now, without his siren in his grasp. “Promise me you’ll find your way home.” There wasn’t any way Eli could honestly make these promises. Erik knew better than most how the future craved turning plans on their heads, how it adored twisting words and promises, pulling the rug out from under people’s feet. 

But Erik asked anyway.

‘What about you?’ Eli asked, ‘What are you supposed to do _?_ I can’t leave you here alone with them-‘

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Erik interrupted him, praying silently to whatever deity, above or below the sea that would listen and give him the strength to continue on. “I’ll be fine. They don’t want to hurt me.” He needed to get up. He needed to stand before he lost his nerve. He would be okay.

He knew he would be.

He was okay before, without knowing Eli.

And now that he had been able to have the honor of meeting him, of spending days in the sea, the both of them healing each other-

Erik pushed himself up off the ground. 

He wasn’t holding his cane any longer, standing strong on his own two legs.

He would be fine.

He had these memories now, to hold tight to. He didn’t need a future on a ship or in a cottage or even off the island when he could now associate it with these past months. “I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Eli signed one last thing to him as the tide began to creep inward, salt water washing over Eli’s tail and Erik’s boots. 

It was something he’d only had the chance to say once before, but this time around, seeing it only broke his heart. 

Erik managed a smile for his siren, and mirrored the gesture. 

Even though their time was short, and their parting hurried, Erik was thankful for the time he knew Eli. For this time he was content and happy.

“So long, Eli.”


	3. Someone Worth Dying For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ You- you were the best thing that could ever have happened to me. You… Eli, you made me happy when I’d forgotten what that was like. You were more than I could have asked for. And- and if I die, it’ll be worth it if you’re safe.” Erik thought of the pointless deaths he’d witnessed throughout his life. “There are worse things to die for.”

Not even a week passed before Erik realized he was wrong.

He couldn’t go back to how he was before he had Eli.

He couldn’t stand the silence.

Couldn’t stand the solitude.

Before he could sleep the hours away, could sit and let his mind go blank as his life passed him by, but now…

The minutes flowed by like molasses. 

And he couldn’t bear it.

The shore was empty.

Free of even the seals he once fed.

The seals he once saw Eli swim with, play with as if they were dogs.

His island was empty.

Apart from himself, and the shadow that followed him.

And… 

Apart from Derk’s ship.

It reappeared not a full day after Eli left, but no one had come to dock on Erik’s island.

Instead, it only circled around.

Watching.

Waiting.

And every day, Erik went out, and just watched.

He knew they saw him, there would be no missing his bright hair.

This wasn’t over.

It was far from it.

They were waiting for something, and it wasn’t long before Erik found out.

It was late.

Erik had been about to turn in when his door burst open, clanging off the wall loud enough to wake the dead.

Derk demands as he and two other crew members storm in. “I know he’s been here. What is it doing? How do we catch it?”

There’s no reason to hide, to lie. “He’s gone.” Erik said with his head held high. “He swam away days ago. You’ll never find him now, Derk.” It’s madness, talking to him this way, but what does Erik have left to lose? “You’ll never get your filthy hands on him again, on any siren.” And that isn’t all. Eli would warn his family about Derk, and people like him. He would share his experiences, and that knowledge would spread among his people. 

Derk was nearly purple with his fury. “Do you know what you could’ve cost me? Cost  _ us? _ ” Derk didn’t move, but his two goons did, backing Erik into the wall, where he had no choice but to stop. 

The sword was on the other side of the room, and against these two, the cane he still carried out of habit was of no significance.

“Do you know how much his flesh would have been worth? I was going to sell it all - I was going to buy off our bounties. I was going to find a manor, find a wife - and I was going to come back for you, too. Isn’t that what you wanted? A home?”

_ Come back for him _ . Erik really wasn’t any more than a prize, a trinket to Derk. What he wanted, what they had planned for was so much more. To explore the world. “Why would I want that?” Erik asked, “Why would I trade one cage for another?”

Derk’s eyes go dark. “I see you won’t be helping us willingly. Get him.”

Erik’s arms are grabbed before he can even try to wiggle free, and twisted behind his back.

They tie his arms, but Erik hardly notices, instead focusing on what Derk says.

“I’ll be finding your siren, don’t you worry. You haven’t cost me this haul yet.”

Erik tries to fight as he’s dragged down the hill, but there isn’t anything he can do.

“I think,” Derk says as Erik is all but dropped into the rowboat, “It’s time you paid me back for my kindness.”

“I don’t owe you shit-“ Erik’s rant is cut off as one of the crew shoves a balled-up bandana into his mouth, and another is tied against his lips.

“I think you do, Erik.” Derk says in the same tone of voice one would use with a stubborn child. “I’ve kept you safe, all this time. I’ve given you a place to live, kept you supplied with everything you need.”

Kept him captive.

Kept him like a neglected pet.

The boat is easily pulled up to the ship, and Erik is again pulled up by his bound arms, to face his captors.

“Now, don’t worry too much, Erik. We won’t let you drown.” Derk says as he peers over the edge of the boat, looking carefully into the waters. “But we don’t really have any other bait.”

_ For Eli? I told him he left!  _ Erik spat curses into the gag, knowing that none of his words would make it to Derk. But what else could he do? 

He felt weights be attached to his wrists. 

They really intended to do this. 

“The creature stuck around, you know.” Derk said, straightening up and turning to where Erik was being pulled from the ground. “Isn’t it funny? The poor thing is too infatuated with you to leave. We see the lights from it’s fin at night, but it never comes far enough from the cliff for us to catch.”

Derk walks up close to where Erik is being held, suspended in the air between two of his goons. 

“With any luck he’ll come to your rescue. Hopefully we don’t have to do this too many times, but you understand, don’t you, Erik?” He was holding Erik around the jaw, his face so close Erik could smell his rancid breath.

But, he was also close enough for Erik to fight.

He wrenched his head away from Derk’s hand, and slammed his forehead into Derk’s.

The thud of his skull against Derk’s sent an avalanche of pain through his head, and he knew that he’d have a big ugly bruise in the middle of his forehead come morning.

But that didn’t matter.

Not when he got to see Derk stumble back, hand covering his bleeding nose.

_ Good _ . With any luck he had broken it.

Derk is glaring at him like he wants to strangle Erik then and now.

Erik lifts his chin high and hopes there’s enough life left in his dead eye for Derk to see his satisfaction. 

“Throw him over. I’ve lost my patience for him.” Derk commands coldy, and even as Erik sees the blackness of the sea below him, he can only wonder what happened. What happened to the other fisher boy. The kind one who made silly jokes, who made plans to explore the world, the one who kept Erik alive through his injuries. 

“Hold your breath.”

The fall takes only a heartbeat, just long enough for Erik to fight for a good breath past his gag.

Though it takes the force of every last working muscle to not gasp out at the icy water that closed over his head, to not fight against the way he sank down into the pitch black depths.

Not exactly concrete shoes, but the sandbags on his arms were doing the trick.

He’d been underwater before.

He’d been pulled under playfully by Eli, but only for a few moments, and it was never something to be feared.

But now, as all Erik could hear was his own pulse, and as the saltwater burned his eyes, he couldn’t dredge up the strength to care.

Maybe he shouldn’t hold his breath.

Maybe he should make himself drown. 

He wasn’t so sure that Derk was telling the truth about Eli. 

What reason would he have to lie? Well, what reason would he have to be honest?

This very well could just be a way to get revenge on Erik for letting Eli swim away. 

Give him just the smallest shred of hope before he went to hell. 

His lungs burned with the stale air he held in.

Only-

There was a glow. 

A faint, golden glow in the darkness.

Eli never left.

Of  _ course  _ he didn’t. 

It was going to waste what little air he had, but Erik couldn’t let Eli get close. 

Struggling against the ropes to thrash, he tried to scream through the gag.

_ “Go! Get out!”  _ He yelled, but past the balled up fabric in his mouth, all that came out was unintelligible. 

But even if he had managed to warn Eli, would he have listened?

Through the sting of saltwater, Erik could only watch as Eli swam close, illuminating the water around them in beautiful gold.

The gag was the first thing Eli untied, ripping through the bandana tied around his face, and prying the cloth from his mouth, before pressing his lips to Erik’s.

He only had a second to be confused before he realized what Eli was doing. 

The burn in his lungs faded, and El pulled away to start on the ropes holding Erik’s arms to his back. 

But before he could work at the knots, Erik heard Eli cry out.

He saw a rush of bubbles as something shot through the water.

He saw a cloud of hot, red liquid rise in the waters.

What- what had they done?

Erik had only a second to panic before the ropes holding him were pulled on, and his head broke the surface. 

_ “Eli!”  _ Erik screeched, not a care given for the sudden lightheadedness that accompanied the fresh air. 

Water streamed from his hair, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Wasn’t a scrap left for him to care, either.

The surface of the water was red. 

“ _ Get it, hurry! Don’t let it escape again!”  _ Derk was calling to his crew, and Erik watched as they threw nets over the side of the ship, aiming for where a second rope was now being pulled at. 

Erik is pulled over the railing, but there wasn’t anything to soften his hit against the wooden boards. His shoulder aches where it hits, and he’s sure there are splinters in his cheek. 

There’s another thud. 

“So… It’s name is Eli?” Erik hears footfalls by his head, and his collar is being dragged up. 

Eli is laying on the ground, only feet away from Erik. The net around him is being pulled away.

And around him, red drips onto the boards. 

There’s a spear. A long, thin blade meant for fishing lodged into his shoulder. “Is that a name you gave him?”

The sudden rush of fury is enough to put feeling back into Erik’s fingers. 

He turns his head fast enough that he can feel his neck pop, and digs his teeth into the hand holding him aloft. 

He feels the skin break between his teeth, but doesn’t get the chance to feel satisfied at Derk’s cry of pain.

One of the crew was prepared for Erik to fight.

The back of the speargun catches Erik around his temple, knocking him off of Derk, and sending him to the ground, struck dizzy.

The rock of the ship feels as if they were stuck in a typhoon, and his thoughts begin to swim out of his grasp.

He can only just watch Eli from the corner of his vision, see as he struggles against those holding him captive. 

He’s so tired, all of a sudden.

Maybe it’s time to give up.

His eyes want to close. 

He wants to sleep.

He knows that he shouldn’t. 

But the swirling black is so tempting… 

Erik was nearly out cold when Eli’s scream of pain jolted him from his daze. 

They’d pulled the harpoon from him unceremoniously. 

His tail lashes, but the moment the spear is away from his body, Eli moves into action.

He wasn’t about to give up, even if Erik was. 

He lashes out, and catches one of the crew members around the face, his nails catching in his cheek and going as far as to cut through an eye and over the bridge of his nose.

Before Erik can process his movements, Eli is over Erik. 

He’s free.

He’s free, but he isn’t fleeing. 

If Erik could just gather the strength he needed… 

But what would the point in telling Eli to run be?

Eli wouldn’t run.

He never had. Probably never would. 

What a fool. They were both going to end up dead at this rate. 

Eli whispers something Erik can hardly hear to him, the sounds around him all bleeding together, losing any meaning they may have had, but as he finishes what he said, everything swims back into focus.

He can move again.

“ _ Eli-“ _ Erik tries to speak, but his words are drowned out by the noise Eli is making, nothing more or less than a growl. 

Even now, even like this…

Eli is covering Erik as much as he can, an arm on either side of him, fins and spines flared out in the same defensive display he had shown Erik months ago.

Even now, Eli is trying to protect him. 

But one against ten was never going to end well.

Eli lashes out against his attackers, but he can only do so much before they pull him off Erik, ropes tying his arms in place. 

But as he’s pulled away, Erik sees him mouth something to him. 

Erik can’t read lips.

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to communicate. 

Erik tries to sit up, tries to get a better look at Eli, as he’s tossed to the ground. 

“Vile thing.” Derk mutters as one of the crew presses the flat of his shoe against Eli’s back, pinning him in place. “I was going to apologize to you for the rough treatment, Erik, but now…” He shakes his head sadly, making a  _ tsk _ ing sound. “Well, it doesn’t matter. You’ll understand soon enough. To think how close you came to losing your chance to be  _ fixed. _ ”

_ Fixed? _ Erik’s mouth worked uselessly as he tried to find a response to that. Eli didn’t know how to use his magic.

How would Derk even know how he-

“After all, you were going to be the first of us to test the myths.”

Suddenly, it all clicked.

_ They wanted to butcher me. _

Erik felt sick. He looked up to meet Eli’s eyes.

They’re bright with terror, and Erik can see his rapid pulse in his throat-

But there’s something else there.

Eli twitches both fins on either side of his head, and again mouths at Erik.

And this time-

He gets it.

_ Cover your ears. _ He’s trying to say.

The ropes around Erik’s arms feel loose. 

Eli had only managed to get the biggest knots undone, but it would have to be enough. 

No one was looking at Erik, now. 

No one paid mind to the half-blinded, weakened, injured man. 

Derk continued on, unaware of what was happening, and Erik struggled out, plugging his ears as Eli took a deep breath.

Between his fingers and the water in his ears, Erik managed to miss the spell that came over the others.

Ten people were more than Eli was able to send to sleep at once, but those that weren’t knocked out were slumped over, hands over their faces as they fought off the dizziness.

However, the crewman that had been holding a lantern was one of the men that fell under Eli’s spell, sending the lit lamp to the wooden floorboards, where it cracked open.

Most ships were at least somewhat protected against fires, but the oil did nothing to help the fire that quickly began to spread. 

Erik forced past his own vertigo, and rushed to his siren’s side. 

The ropes were easy to cut through with the discarded harpoon, and together made it to the edge of the railing.

They didn’t have the time or luxury to lower a boat, and instead, fell together to the water.

This time, Erik was prepared for the shocking cold.

They both fell beneath the waves, but Eli brought them back to the surface.

Behind them, even this far below the ship, they could feel the heat of the spreading flames.

It was difficult, nothing like the times they had swam out to the surf before. Erik is barely keeping above the water, whatever spell Eli had cast was not enough to heal him fully, while Eli was still struggling against the pain in his shoulder.

It felt as though it took hours, and for all Erik knew, that was right, before they managed to drag themselves ashore.

They collapsed against each other in the water. Breathing heavily, marveling in the fact they’d gotten away, and ready to rest, when Erik heard the snap of burning wood.

He pushed away from Eli, and saw a single lifeboat lowering from the burning ship.

They were awake.

Likely putting a stop to the fire, and coming for them both.

“Eli-“ Erik took his siren by the shoulders, ever so careful of the ragged, weeping wound in one, and flashed back to the goodbye they shared before.

“You need to go,  _ as fast as you can. _ Don’t stop for  _ anything _ . Don’t look back. And-“ Erik stops for only a moment, choking back his fears, “Please listen to me this time.”

Eli doesn’t speak. But the look on his face, the grip he has on Erik’s arms…

He’s never needed to speak to tell Erik how he felt. 

“It’s fine.” Erik says, “Please, it’ll be okay.”

‘No, it won’t be!’ Eli pulls his arms away to sign, ‘They’ll kill you!’

“I know that.” Erik says around the lump on his throat. “And it is fine.” He pulls Eli close, not caring for the pressure he’s putting on Eli’s injured shoulder. He doesn’t want him to see his face. “I didn’t have much of a life, anyway. You- you were the best thing that could ever have happened to me. You… Eli, you made me happy when I’d forgotten what that was like. You were more than I could have asked for. And- and if I die, it’ll be worth it if you’re safe.” Erik thought of the pointless deaths he’d witnessed throughout his life. “There are worse things to die for.”

Eli’s arms close around his back, and Erik feels him shake his head. 

Stubborn bastard.

He wants to be angry. He wants to yell at Eli for not listening when this is his life they’re fighting for.

But he can’t be angry with him.

Not when Erik knew he’d be the same.

Finally, his own tears begin to fall. Why couldn’t things be different? Why couldn’t they have met under different circumstances? Why were they both born under bad stars?

“Please.” Erik says for lack of anything else to say. “Please, Eli. I’m begging you, go. I can’t escape, I can’t swim away like you. If you die, if they catch you, then this is all for nothing. The worst they’ll do to me is kill me. But- they’ll do worse to you, and you know it.”

Erik pulled back, no longer needing to hide his tears. Eli could hear them in his voice. “Go home, Eli.”

The lifeboat was in the water.

Erik’s time was ticking away.

“Go find your family.”

Eli hesitated for only a second, before reaching out lightning-fast to pull Erik back in close.

It was more like that first swim lesson than any other they shared, fast and desperate, and so full of love-

But Erik was able to relax.

This wasn’t Eli fighting. This wasn’t him trying to convince Erik to change his mind.

This was Eli conceding.

They broke apart.

“Thank you.” Erik breathed into the space between them, and this time, this last time, he gave Eli a proper send-off. “Good-bye, Eli.”

Erik doesn’t have the time to spare that he spends watching his siren swim away, until he can hardly see the golden glow he emits, but it would hurt more to ignore it.

The boat is about halfway to the island, and Erik turns to his house. 

The last gift Derk left him, the last mistake he’ll ever make.

The sword still sits on the stand. Meant for decoration, meant for fighting, it doesn’t matter. 

He isn’t going down without a fight.

The door slams open, trembling on its hinges as Erik stands by the stove, waiting. He had what he needed, and there's nowhere to run.

Except-

It’s Derk.

_ Only _ Derk. 

No crew, no goons, he’s alone. 

Blood runs down from his clearly broken nose, and a single rivulet from his temple.

But most importantly, his cutlass is in hand.

He’s here to kill, that much is certain.

“You’ve damned us all.” Derk’s voice is colder than the waters. “The ship is going to sink, the crew will all burn or drown - and all because  _ you  _ fell for a siren’s spell!”

“Eli never cursed me.” Erik said, standing his ground. “I made the choice to help him. All the time he was here - all the time that I knew him, he never tried to do anything to hurt me.”

“How would you know?” Derk sneered at him, but Erik wasn’t a fool. He knew a taunt when he heard one, and he wasn’t about to let Derk get to him now.

“None of this is my fault.” Erik said, his voice level, and his hands at his sides. “I didn’t make you storm the ship Eli was on. I didn’t make you decide to kill him over a legend. I didn’t make you  _ attack  _ me. And I sure as hell didn’t make you do any of that for me.”

Derk snapped. Erik could see a vein standing out on his forehead, and he gripped his blade with white-knuckled hands as he charged at Erik like a mindless beast.

What had happened to him?

When did he turn into this monster?

For once, Erik was glad that he hadn’t remained a pirate. 

That he lost the path that would’ve led him to this.

Erik dodged him easily, hardly having to expend any effort at all to do so, and managed to lodge the small paring knife he held into his side.

Derk misses with his slash, and cries out in fury as the blade is buried in his upper arm. 

The table he bumped into wobbled, and the piles of papers and books slid from their already precariously stacked towers, fluttering over the floor.

It wouldn’t have mattered.

It wouldn’t have caught Erik’s attention at all, had it not been for the lantern that fell with them.

It seemed the world had a balance to keep. 

While Derk was down, Erik took his chance to get outside.

If the paper caught he wasn’t about to get stuck inside a blaze.

Honestly, he would rather drown. 

But as Erik made it outside, he stopped in his tracks.

There were no crew coming to aid their captain.

There were no lifeboats in the water.

The ship was engulfed in flames, and beginning to tip back into the water. Tar-black smoke rose in a thick plume from the flags to climb into the sky, obscuring the stars from view.

There was no way off the island, now.

Erik shook himself from his shock and moved around the lighthouse, hoping to get just a few moments to prepare.

But of course, he couldn’t get what he asked for.

The side of the lighthouse was lit silver from the light of the moon, for once the skies over his island were completely clear.

Out of breath and out of time, Erik stopped before the cliff edge. 

He didn’t want to do this.

He never wanted this-

“ _ For you! _ ” His old friend’s angry shout was just behind him, but Derk didn’t close the last of the distance between them. He knew that Erik was beaten. “It was all for you!”

Erik hung his head and fought the urge to turn and attack.

Whatever Derk thought he’d done for Erik… Whatever he had intended, it was never what Erik had wanted. 

“I gave you so much!” The waves crashed against the cliff face. He knew the sound so well it was hardly something to take notice of, anymore. Erik could sleep through the worst storm fronts peacefully because of this sound. 

But he’d never asked for that.

He’d never asked for this island, this responsibility, this isolation. 

It had been forced onto him, just as everything else in his life had been.

The one thing, the one single thing he chose for himself was gone, fled beneath the waves he knew so well. 

And that was good.

Eli was safe, he’d find his way back to his family, in those far off warm seas. 

Eli wouldn’t have to see Erik fight. Wouldn’t have to see his inevitable death.

But-

That was okay.

Years ago, Erik was prepared to have the ocean as his grave, and that hadn’t changed.

The only thing that had, was that he was dying with a purpose, now.

Derk’s ship was sinking.

The lighthouse burned. 

Derk’s piracy and Erik’s own isolation was coming to a brutal end, and Erik may not be able to deal the final blow, but no matter what the outcome, the place he’d been trapped was Derk’s prison, now. 

For whatever time he had left, he would know what Erik had to suffer through. 

Erik drew the foreign sword from its sheath with a shaking hand. 

Never had he expected to actually have to use it.

The sword was nothing like anything else he had wielded against an opponent, but it wasn’t a problem.

Sword masters talked a big game about their accomplishments and skill, but Erik had never bought into it.

Blades were blades.

You held one end, and slashed and stabbed with the pointy one. Simple enough.

“I never asked for this.” Erik said as he faced his old friend, “I never wanted this!” Anything he wanted to say, he needed to say now. There would be no second chances. “I  _ hate  _ it here. I  _ hate  _ being alone.” His voice had risen above the crash, and the fire of fury in his chest was only being fanned by the winds at his back. “I will never forgive you for dumping me here.”

Derk stared at him as if Erik had spontaneously grown a second head. 

Erik knew what he looked like. Knew what he must be thinking.

How was Erik going to fight, as unpracticed and unable as he was? He was being underestimated. And that was good.

Erik couldn’t run. He could hardly walk, honestly. He couldn’t really tell exactly how far Derk was from him, either. But because of Eli, his bad leg could take his weight, and that was all he needed. 

“It was for your own good!” Derk yelled, “I left you here to keep you safe!”

Erik thought of the books burning in his home, specifically one old storybook about a princess left in a tower, waiting on a knight in shining armor.

Erik was no Rapunzel, Eli no dashing prince, but Derk… 

A pirate, a thief, a killer. He fit in well in the villain's role.

“I just wanted to help!” Derk said, but raised his own cutlass in retaliation. “I was always going to come back.” 

Erik was suddenly seeing Derk as something entirely different, hearing his own voice from months ago, begging the injured siren to let him help.

He wondered how far he would’ve gone to keep Eli safe, if he had been injured as badly as Erik has been.

He imagined himself putting him into a water tank with a glass window, so much smaller a space than the ocean he deserved, the ocean he needed.

He would’ve been safe, but not happy.

And what kind of life was that?

Not a good one, Erik knew.

He would never have gone that far, and even if he could understand the sentiment, Derk never should have, either.

Erik’s tank was broken, now. The sea was within his grasp, and he wasn’t going to let go.

That was the difference between them.

Nothing more than a caged bird, here. No matter what happened, Erik would be better off for the events of tonight.

_ Safe _ . That was a funny thing to call this island, anyway. Was he safe? From storms, from floods? From fires, accidents, himself?

Maybe from Derk.

Derk’s guard was down.

Did he think Erik was bluffing?

His blade crossed Derk’s as he brought it up to block at the last moment. 

He pulled away, and tried again.

There was no grace to their fight, none of the bravado or practiced ease that they both once used. 

Erik from his lack of practice.

Perhaps Derk had been living a cushier life than he led on.

Clash after clash, Erik drew back. 

He wasn’t doing anything but exhausting himself like this.

He needed to regroup-

But he was at the cliff. 

There was nowhere to run.

“I don’t want to kill you, Erik.” Derk said. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to help.”

_ Broken record. _ Erik sneered. “You couldn’t have hurt me more if you tried. Tonight or any other.”

Erik lunged again, and this time his blade cut true, but it was not enough. Too weak a blow, it was not a fatal wound, it was not even something to worry over. 

It would leave a nasty scar, but that was all.

Derk let out a pained shout, and his cutlass fell from his numb fingers. 

He grabbed the blade, sharpened edge and all, and Erik saw blood well in his grip.

The sword was wrenched from his hands, and Erik was defenseless. 

Derk pulled the sword from where it had been plunged into his side, and took the hilt in his own hands. 

Erik took another two steps back, and stopped.

He knew this island like the back of his hand.

He knew every blade of grass, every loose stone.

He knew exactly where the drop was.

Just mere inches from his heels was the very edge.

He’d been on this spot before, but never had the urge to fall been so strong.

It was a long drop to the oceans below.

Dead and damned either way, Erik gave in.

He grinned wide and mad before he went, drinking in Derk’s incredulous rage, knowing he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of killing Erik himself, spread his arms wide, and let go. He said nothing, not caring to leave behind any last words. There was no headstone for them to be etched into, and no one besides Derk around to listen.

The fall took only seconds. No time at all for panic, fear, or regret. 

He hit the water hard, the cold a shock to his system like no other, the surface of the ice-cold salt water high above his head, Erik didn’t try to make it.

As strong of a swimmer as he was now, he knew it was still too far to go on his own to the banks, and even if he made it, Derk was still there.

He made his bed, and he had to lie in it.

Air bubbles floating to the surface, Erik thought he almost felt peaceful.

It was truly silent underwater.

More than he had ever known before.

So this is where Eli came from. His silent companion.

It was too bad, really.

He would’ve loved to be able to explore with him.

“Erik!” A voice he’d never heard before cut through the silence, carrying surprisingly well through the waters Erik was sinking through.

A voice he had never heard, and yet, a voice he would always recognize.

_ Eli _ . Of course he still hadn’t listened to Erik.

It was almost funny, at this point. 

_ Infatuated. _ Derk had been right about that much.

Erik couldn’t see this far down, but he felt Eli’s hands close on his shoulders.

Erik hadn’t any air with which to speak, but if he had, he’d be begging Eli to go.

There wasn’t anywhere safe for him to be brought, and he wasn’t going to risk Eli’s safety any more than he already had.

“Erik!” His siren’s voice was desperate, but to his confusion, he wasn’t being brought up to the air, but even further down under the water. “I won’t let you go.”

Each word carried magic, Eli had said, and maybe magic was what made each word feel so special, so amazing to hear.

It was a shame that Erik never got to hear the voice before now.

It wasn’t so bad, dying like this. Because of this, Eli would be safe, and having Eli here…

For so long, Erik had thought he would die alone on that island, his death unknown for god knows how long until Derk came back to find him. But he wasn’t alone. 

The last thing he heard were the high notes of his song.

He wasn’t alone. 

Eli had him, and Eli always would, if only they had the chance.

Eli was speaking more, but meanings had begun to elude Erik. His lungs burned, and even though he knew he would drown, he took a breath, and let his siren, his ocean, take him into the dark.

Erik dreamed of nothing.

Found no pearly gates, no blistering flames.

Instead… The blackness faded, and he woke to an all-over soreness, and an ache in his head. 

He was scared to open his eyes.

Scared to find where he was, scared to learn that everything was a dream… 

But Erik was no coward, and forced himself to take in his surroundings. 

He lay not on his bed, but on dark stone that jutted from the sea, not unlike the slate that covered his own beach… Only, it wasn’t his anymore, was it?

His head was pillowed on his arms, and pushing up off them, he looked out to the endless sea.

He had been drowning.

He was dying, his lungs full of seawater. 

How in the world…

A flash of purple, and then Eli was surfacing, dragging himself next to Erik on the small rock.

“Eli-“ Erik started, but the second Eli noticed he was awake, his eyes went bright, and Erik was being dragged into a rib-crushing hug.

The cuts on his skin burned at the contact, and Eli couldn’t have been any better off, but he couldn’t imagine how worried Eli had to have been, how scared.

He could let him have this. 

He could, for just a moment, relax into it. 

And when Eli began speaking, this time more than just frantic shouts of his name, Erik didn’t know what to think.

He went limp in Eli’s arms, and just listened.

“I’m so sorry,” Eli said, over and over into his ear. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this would happen. I just couldn’t let you drown. I’ll find a way to change you back, I promise.”

Change him… 

Erik pulled away from Eli, and for the first time since he woke, realized that the pain in his leg that he’d come to know day in and out was gone.

Looking down at his own hands, he saw light transparent webbing between his fingers, and a speckling of scales on the backs of his hands. “ _ Oh _ .” 

Erik dredged up the courage to look at where his legs should be-

Blue.

A tail of blues both muted and vibrant stretched out behind him, the finds solid and opaque unlike Eli’s translucent ones, and spines along his back and on his sides. Not much like Eli’s at all. “Oh.” It almost looked like that of a leopard shark. 

So that’s how he survived the swim here.

So that’s why Eli could speak to him.

He took his arms away from Eli, and with a trembling hand, touched the tail, and tried to move the fin.

It was awkward, and it was a jerking movement, nothing like the grace Eli moved with.

It would take practice to figure it out.

“I didn’t know what my words would change.” Eli continued on, “But we’ll find another way. I don’t mean to make you do anything-“

“It’s fine.” Erik said, meaning it. This… Everything had changed. He had changed, and once more, his life stretched out before his eyes, but this time around… He had a choice.

He could follow Eli until he could be fixed, find another way back to being human, he could go off on his own, but… 

He didn’t want that. He wanted  _ this _ . “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want to drag you into anything you don’t want.” Eli said, his hand coming to rest under Erik’s chin, tilting his head up to look Eli in the eyes. “I’m not going to be like the people before-“

“I  _ want  _ this.” Erik told him, reaching up to pull him back in close. “I promise you, I do.” He couldn’t care less whether he had legs or a tail. The land hadn’t ever been his home, and it wasn’t about to be. The ocean, though… 

Truly now, it could be his. “I’ll stay with you. As long as you’ll have me.”

Eli was quiet for a moment, and Erik wondered if he’d said the wrong thing, if Eli didn’t want him to stay, but after just a second, he realized that he couldn’t be more wrong.

“I think we should go home.” Eli said, “But it’s a long swim. We’ll go slow, okay?”

“Alright.”  _ Home _ \- Erik wondered what that meant, under the sea. If there would be a house of shells and corals, if there was a town, if there were more. 

At risk of ruining the moment, “Eli… Why didn’t you leave me? Twice, you stayed even though I asked you to go, for your own safety.” Erik’s glad now that he didn’t leave, but  _ still _ .

Eli’s fingers combed through Erik’s hair, and oh, that was nice. Almost enough to make him forget, but Eli was answering.

“I tried.” Eli said, “I really did. But I knew you were wrong, that I wasn’t the only one in danger. I couldn’t bear to leave you, not knowing what would happen to you.”

“But-“ It almost hurt to say, “Even after they caught you. Even after- after knowing what they were going to do to you, that it- they were going to kill you for  _ me _ -“

“Because I love you, you idiot.” Eli interrupted, but his voice was soft. “You weren’t a part of them when they made that plan. You were a victim, just like me. Or did you forget that they were drowning you?”

“No.” Erik said, and let himself relax. Eli loved him. Eli came back for him. And- and now he knew that he always would. 

And Erik knew that he’d fight to the death to keep Eli safe.

Not that he would need to. 

They were safe, now.

Derk wasn’t a threat. No one knew about them, there wasn’t anyone left to chase them.

Their wounds would heal, in time.

His skin wasn’t crawling any longer. Laying against Eli’s chest, his arm around Erik’s back…

This felt right.

It felt like he was where he should be. 

He didn’t regret the island. Or the pirates, the fisherman, or even the old mill. 

Without each one, he wouldn’t have ended up here.

“Mum and everyone will love you.” Eli said, “I hope you’ll like them. They’ll be so happy to meet you.”

Erik didn’t care if the journey ahead of them took the rest of his life. 

For the first time, he didn't have a cage. 

He was free.

“Eli?” Erik asked, feeling so very tired. He just woke up, didn’t he? Why did he feel so sleepy? But it wasn’t something he needed to fight.

He felt his eyelids grow heavy, and spoke. “Can you… Can you say it, out loud, again? Please?”

“Say… Oh.” Erik could hear the smile in his voice. “Erik, I love you.”

He felt so warm, even on this cold slab of stone, even with the icy sea stretching out for unknown lengths ahead of him. 

Erik didn’t pretend this wasn’t going to be hard. He didn’t try to imagine the world he was about to join. “Love you too, Eli.” He answered.

Fantasies didn’t matter anymore.

He didn’t need them, when everything real was so much better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end of that.
> 
> Until I make a sequel, that is. :>
> 
> I can’t believe how fast I got this done, and I hope I wrapped it up nicely!

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah there was a huge Cirque Du Freak reference in here, and if you caught it that means we’re friends now, sorry.


End file.
